The Left Side of Memories
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: 'Your ability to remember everything…is really troublesome.' Because when they all died, they didn't want to be a burden on that memory. Maybe though, what they did would cause more damage – but how else could they make someone who remembered everything forget? How else could they cut ties with him?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Written for the Diversity Writing Challenge at the Magical Girls/Boys Forum, prompt J32, fic that explores guilt/repentance.

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><p><strong>The Left Side of Memories<strong>

The wind was a soft caress and the donuts were a heavy weight in her arms.

Ryouta didn't seem to notice anything. Or maybe he did and he put it down to something else. Put it down to what she wanted to tell him, why she was leading him this way for: leading him up a path of winding steps lined with trees they'd walked so many times before…until it had become too dangerous to return.

But it would be fine, she was sure. Things would end that night, one way or another. There would be no need for anyone to return to the observatory: not Vingulf nor Hexenjagd. No-one would find Ryouta there.

She walked through the hole where the door once was. Ryouta followed her. The wind faded away, trapped outside even though there was a hole before it. Just like them: trapped, waiting for death one way or another. Either they would kill Valkyria and die when their medicines ran out, or they would be killed by Valkryia.

And when had she stopped thinking of him as Murakami and started calling him Ryouta instead? Her fingers tightened around the paper bag and she pulled the donuts closer. She knew when. And why. She knew and she just hadn't wanted to admit it, for the longest time. Not until Kana had put it so frankly it was impossible to rebuke.

She loved him. And that was why…she couldn't let him die. Or die again.

She stopped, where their provisional strategy room had been: where they'd planned to get those medicines, to stop Kana's visions from coming true – how many things had they planned in that room? So many… And she was sure Ryouta remembered them all. He remembered even the smallest details anyone else wouldn't have given a second glance to. He could recite a book from memory and draw a map or a portrait after seeing them just once.

It was troublesome, because he would never be able to forget them. Or leave them.

A few tears fell on to the paper bag she hugged to her chest.

'Kuroha..?' Ryouta had stopped a little behind her and was looking at her now. She didn't need to turn around to see that, or see the expression he wore. She had a good memory as well, when her powers weren't eating them up. She knew exactly what sort of face he was making now.

And her heart would probably break if she had to look at it right now.

All she could do was say what it was she needed to say, and do what she needed to do.

The bag of donuts fell from her hands and hit the floor with a thump. She heard Ryouta take a step. He stopped when she spoke.

'Ryouta.'

Silence. Only the wind outside: howling, trying to get in.

She could imagine his face right then as well: what sort of expression he wore. How he looked, fishing for words, shocked she'd used his given name…

_I'm using it now because this will be the last time we see each other…_

More tears fell. She rubbed them away, squeezing her eyes shut when new ones came. Giving up on them, she turned around. Turned around with her eyes still shut so she couldn't see him. She didn't need to see him until the end.

'You saved my life here,' she said, her lips twisting into a smile. All the happiness she could muster up went in to that smile. Even though her heart was already thinking about the future. Already breaking…

_I'll make your remembering brain forget about us, so you won't have to suffer again._

'I wanted…to thank you for it…'

She heard his sharp breath, felt the words he wanted to interrupt her with vibrate in the air. But she didn't listen to them. She couldn't. She wouldn't be able to go through with her plan if she did.

'…and to say sorry.'

She forced her eyes open and Ryouta was there, wearing an expression just like she imagined him. But she didn't look at him for long. Before she lost her will of steel she reached out and struck with her power, with all the controlled strength she could risk to knock him down without injuring him.

_Let it be right,_ she prayed, watching him fall. _Let me be right._

He landed sprawled and didn't move. Her heart pounding in her chest, she crept closer, then knelt down and searched for a pulse. Her clumsy, inexperienced hands felt around his neck before they found it: that vein pulsing with strong life. And once that was confirmed she checked the rest of him: his head, his back, his chest. There was nothing wrong.

She sighed in relief. She'd done it right. Unconscious, but not dead. But that had been the easier part. The harder part came next.

_Because if you wake up, you'll come after us and this will all be a waste. I know it._

Her hands were shaking as she pulled his head to her lap.

_Please let me be right about this. Please let me be right._

Her fingers ran through his scalp: searching, calculating.

'It's here,' she said aloud. 'Deep in here. '

She'd calculated carefully, and she simply had to hope she'd been exact enough. To hit such a small part of the brain without touching anything else would have been beyond her mere weeks ago – but she'd trained. She'd grown. Such knowledge would have been beyond her as well, but she'd studied hard.

Not for grades like everyone had thought. But because she'd known one day she would have to wipe them all out of his mind.

_And the only way to do that is to make him forget everything…_

And this was the safest way she'd found to do it. The smallest bit of the brain she'd have to destroy to break the perfect circuit that was the brain and its capacity for remembering. The left hippocampus, which was like a video player – that recorded episodes of life and replayed them when called upon. He'd lose his ability to remember the future as well…

'But you were happier when all you did was study.' She closed her eyes, her fingers lifting lightly, tangling in his hair. 'You were happy before I came in to your life, looking just like your childhood friend and pulling up those memories you'd wanted so badly to forget. And doctors are good. They'll fix you. You'll be back to normal soon.'

Her shoulders shook. Her tears kept on falling. She knelt down and let her lips brush against his temple, then drew back with a laugh. 'I'm sorry,' she said, forcing a smile. 'I shouldn't have done that…but I wanted to. It's my last chance.'

Still smiling, she reached deep in to his brain with her power and struck. Not hard enough to bleed. She might have killed him if she did. But to destroy the cells, that part of the brain that made him unable to ever forget.

Though the brain wasn't so simple: she knew. She hoped she'd done just enough: not so much as to hurt him irrevocably – just enough to give him the life he'd had before he'd met her back.

She wished she could have made sure, somehow, before leaving him there. But there was no way to do it, and so with her heavy heart she set his head down and looked at that peacefully unconscious face one more time.

'Goodbye, Ryouta,' she said to the unmoving form, before turning around, picking up the paper bag and the donuts and walking back out. Back out of the observatory that she would probably never set foot in again. Away from the boy who had saved her, saved all of them, that she would probably not see again. Back towards the wind that seemed quieter now that she wasn't apart from it. Now that it didn't have to try to go get somewhere it couldn't reach despite the path being right there for it…

They really were alike: the magic users and the wind. A free life stretched beyond them…if it wasn't for their pursuers and the medicine that was just about to run out.

But she wasn't free to walk to her impending death just yet. There was one more thing she had to do. There was a pay phone nearby. She'd seen it countless times, walking to and from the observatory.

She put some change in to it. The change Ryouta had given her back…some time. She didn't remember when, but she was sure it had been him. No-one else could have given those coins to her. It was one of those memories she'd lost because of her powers, but she still knew. She was still sure.

And now, she was using what remained from those coins to save him.

'Hello?' she said, when somebody picked up. She could see a bus approaching from the distance. It was perfect timing, and she had her bus pass on her. She'd be gone before they came, before they could search for her. And they'd all be gone five nights from that point, if not the very same night.

Ryouta would still live though. Hopefully. She'd made sure of that.

'There's a boy unconscious up in the observatory up in the mountain… Yes, he's still breathing… No, not bleeding anywhere. A high school student; he's wearing a uniform… Uhh, I don't know… Yes, yes. Thank you.'

The bus pulled to a stop as she hung up, and she stepped on to it, away from the phone, the observatory, Ryouta…and the happy memories he had given him.

'Goodbye, Ryouta,' she said again, as the bus doors shut against the wind. 'Goodbye.'


	2. Chapter 2

**The Left Side of Memories  
><strong>_Chapter 2_

They were several students short the next day. Four students unexpectedly transferred out, and one was simply absent. Until a call came in halfway through the second period, letting them know that Murakami Ryouta was in the hospital after collapsing for unknown reasons.

There was a tale of a mansion that had caught fire and been destroyed as well, killing its only inhabitant: a lonely young man who'd had a brilliant mind and a fulfilling scientific career. The organisation he'd worked for prior to this untimely death had offered a small comment, and the police were unsure whether it was a tragic accident, suicide or arson.

Of course, the students cared more for what was closer to home and wondered why four girls had disappeared so suddenly, not even leaving a forwarding address or telling their friends. But, some whispered, they might have told Murakami. Murakami was the president of the Astronomy Club after all, and all the girls are – or were – members. Conspiracy theories sprung up. Some whispered that maybe the girls had something to do with Murakami's hospitalisation, and that's why they'd disappeared. Others said the scientist was mad and had been experimenting with young girls and the transfers were just his attempt to cover up. Some figured Murakami had broken their hearts – and one of them had punched back in retaliation and left them unconscious.

For the teachers, it wasn't that unusual to lose students, and although the timing was suspect, at least Takatori Kotori's marks hadn't been on par with their standards and they'd been discussing following her up. It seemed she'd made the decision to withdraw on her own. Kuroha Neko was a different situation: she'd surpassed the brightest student at their school in a single semester. Perhaps she'd felt there was no challenge there for her. And Schlierenzauer Kazumi had transferred from Germany unexpectedly after family issues. Perhaps they'd been resolved or had taken a different sort of turn. There was always some change to the cohort by the end of the year.

And then there were the ones that only cared for Murakami Ryouta. Like Hatsudsa Kitsuka, though she'd heard the news through her mother, since Ryouta was due to tutor her that afternoon. She may have been joined by some members of Ryouta's class, but he'd spent too much time studying to be that close to any of them. If it was longer than a day, then people with worry. If it hadn't been eeclipsed by the news of four transfers, then they'd worry. But collapsing on the way back from the observatory without a physical wound suggested something more along the lines of stress and overwork. Or heartbreak.

But it wasn't something as innocent as that, and by the end of the week, the class was getting over the fact the girls had transferred, and were suitably worried.

**.**

Kazumi frowned at the computer. Though she'd pulled them all out of the school, she kept an eye on them. Murakami was still there, after all. Murakami that they'd gotten involved… Well, she could blame Neko and Kana entirely for that. And Neko for the aftermath.

Still, they'd all agreed, and it wouldn't have been fair to put that burden on Neko even if she did remember. But she didn't. Her mind had been emptied out after that battle. She was just learning to read and write again.

And Hatsuna was relaxing after three regenerations in one week.

It couldn't have been helped. Maybe having Murakami with them would have given them something. A chance before Kotori was dead, before the scientist was dead, before Kuroha's arm had been mangled beyond moveability. And before Kazumi found herself in three pieces too, but Hatsuna had been able to fix that. And she'd melted. And regenerated. And fixed Kuroha's arm.

They hadn't been able to find Kotori in the end to try and save her. But she was definitely dead. The scientist had said so. Valkyria had said so as well. And Hexenjagd. Two opposing sides, and they'd agreed on that fine fact.

Hexenjagd had also agreed that it was good Murakami hadn't been with them.

'I do hope you'll leave him out of future endeavours as well,' said Maki. Her eyes were cold, framed by the band that held her veil. But she'd given them the formulation for the medicine. She'd handed them the livelihood they'd fought for.

Hatsuna (who'd repaired herself after being cut by Valkyria in the observatory) had sent it straight to Ryouta's uncle. Neko might have protested that if she'd been able, but they'd honestly had no time. Hatsuna had pills, but only so many. Waiting until they were all healed and could make a decision would have cost them all their lives. And then she'd healed Kazumi and left her to receive the delivery.

And Kazumi had been monitoring things ever since.

Some of it was simple, standard, stuff. Keeping an eye on all the security cameras around the observatory and along the roads leading up to it. And an eye on the reports surrounding Chojirou's place, seeing what they revealed, what they kept quiet, and what they didn't even know. And then there was the attention she was giving to Murakami. She checked the school every now and then. The record in writing. The whispers of students from his class. She checked the hospital records too, once she'd worked out which one they'd taken him too. She saw he hadn't moved once that week.

Brain damage was fickle. They all knew that, even if Neko had forgotten now. But she hadn't when she'd done the deed. And she would have been careful. She was always careful when using her power. And they had no way of knowing yet if anything had gone wrong. Only if he woke up – and surely he'd wake up. It was a small wound, that had taken an MRI to pick up. And it had healed by itself, leaving a perfectly normal brain behind.

Because all they'd wanted to do was make him forget, and because of that stupid "scanner" memory, they'd had to go to drastic measures to do it.

And they still didn't know if they'd managed to get him out of the net he'd wound up in. Or what they were going to do about his uncle. Because, for the moment, they had no other way of manufacturing the medicine. No other way to stay alive day after day.

And they hadn't exactly been ample opportunity to talk in the past week.

**.**

Kogorou had also heard about his nephew's ailment. He had no way of knowing what had really occurred until Ryouta woke up again, but he had suspicions. Several of them.

He knew about the witches, after all. And about Vingulf. Even if he didn't know about Hexenjagd. He knew one of the witches had sent him the formulation of the pills he'd been trying to dissect. A formulation which would still have taken him a month to work out, if not more.

He had little misgivings for making it for them though, so he did.

Although a part of him couldn't help but be suspicious as to the timing of it all.

Oh, he didn't think they'd sold his nephew for the cure. Or maybe he did. Even humans had that animalistic sense in them, that desire to survive above all else. Could they really have turned away from the possibility of extending their lives if it came to them, even if the price was a friend who had already saved them more than once?

But Ryouta had told him of their decision. How they'd chosen to spend the last week together instead of giving one of them a month. And not one of them had pleaded for that month, or attempted to take it by force. Instead, they'd offered it up, just like someone might offer a part of their lunch to the kid who'd left his at home. Except it wasn't just the matter of a person's lunch. It was life. And they'd chosen to cut theirs short not because they couldn't come to an agreement as to who should live longer, but because none of them wanted to sacrifice her friends. And Ryouta was their friend as well. They'd trusted him enough to allow him to take the information of their existence to someone who may have killed them on the spot, or taken them away for experimentation. Surely that showed that the scenario of them selling Ryouta out was unlikely.

Then there was the far more likely option two. They'd wanted to save him from getting in too deep and this was the end result.

That was more likely. Nanami had wiped out the memories of the girls when she died to spare them sadness and grief. Of course, Ryouta had been immune to that. Kogorou had only been looking away.

So maybe they'd needed to result to something a little more…physical. Normal people couldn't cause a carefully calculated brain aneurysm without some sort of drug or pressure system, but the girl who'd blown up things in his office methodologically could have managed it. After all, it couldn't be a coincidence that the scans showed the aneurysm at the hippocampus – where damage to was a common cause of amnesia.

And then there was the third option that someone else had found out he was helping the witches, and this was their way of damage control. And the fourth option that it was entirely unrelated and Ryouta had simply had a spontaneous aneurysm, which was the hardest of them all to believe. He was a scientist after all. Scientists found the first sparks by pure luck but, on the whole, they didn't believe in coincidences. And this wasn't the first spark. Somebody had hurt Ryouta. Who and for what reason was the question, and the subtleties that separated one differential from another would determine how he felt about the whole matter…and what he did about it.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Left Side of Memories**  
><em>Chapter 3<em>

One week later, Murakami Naoko thought she had a better idea of who her son's true friends were, and that was something Ryouta should have been learning himself, but he still hadn't woken up yet.

Tragedies or close calls had a way of doing such things. It was the same when her husband and older son had died. She was left with a one year old and her husband's friends were just…gone. Sympathetic one moment, moving on with their lives the next forgetting Murakami Ryou had left part of his family behind and they were still in that world.

Even her friends, once she'd lost the prestige her husband had given. Or maybe they'd always laughed at her, and at her brother: the genius who'd gone nowhere in life, they said. Naoko thought those whisperers to be the fools. Kogorou was a strong man to choose the path he had, and he had no family to support. But even when Naoko had no choice but to lean on him as she struggled to find a job that would support them and would watch her baby for her, Kogorou had proven himself to not be of want of anything –

Save maybe company. He did like Ryouta's company so very much and sometimes, Naoko confessed to herself, it displeased her. Because of the accident, she was unable to spend as much time with her remaining son as she would like, and more chores and responsibilities fell to him than should fall on someone that age. She wasn't the sort of person who could help him with his homework, the sort that could spend too much time chatting over the breakfast or dinner table or even over the stove. And usually it was Ryouta on the stove. He even scolded her about drinking too much coffee some mornings. That wasn't a son's job.

But Kogorou was a reliable uncle, even after all his eccentrics. He was willing to walk for an hour and a half to get to Ryouta's parent days because he understood the value of education and Naoko couldn't get time off. After a while, she let him go to the report days as well. Ryouta's education had quickly progressed beyond her reach and it was better for someone who intellectually inclined to follow his progress, to know where to push and where to pat on the head.

But those were all parent roles and Naoko had had to let go of them. This, at least, she could do. Fifteen years later, she had a well paying job and her son was in high school and at the age where he was physically, as opposed to just mentally, old enough to stay home alone while she worked into the early hours of the morning some nights. And he was at the age where her greatest worries about him was whether or not he'd discovered girls yet (sounded like he had with those new transfer students, but she was yet to meet.

And then, completely out of the blue, he's in the hospital with suspected brain damage from an aneurysm, and how did he wind up with an aneurysm in the first place?

The doctors had tried to explain. Their theories anyway, because the bottom line was they had no idea. 'We can see the ruptured vessel in the initial MRI scans,' they said, 'but it's healed up now and the blood that leaked has been drained and the EEG shows normal conductance through the hippocampus – ' Like the hippocampus actually meant anything to her. She'd stopped the doctor there and gone to call her brother. As a scientist, she figured, he'd understand far more of the medical mumbo jumbo than she would. And he was. But that was just another parental duty she couldn't fulfil.

So she spent every moment not at work at his bedside. She saved her time off. She never did get a lot of it and it'd be better spent when Ryouta was awake. Or so she reasoned with herself. The doctors said it could be days, or weeks, or months. Brain injuries were fickle things. Even when the organ was physically fine it didn't work the way it was supposed to. And a lot of other things they wouldn't even know until he woke up.

She got her shifts changed around, at least. More night shifts when visiting hours were over anyway (and Ryouta was too old for them to allow her to stay on motherly grounds when he wasn't kicking and screaming for her, and she doubted he'd do that if he was awake and lucid). So she sat and stared at Ryouta's pale face and thought of all the things she knew she'd missed, and all the other things she didn't know. Like if he'd been more stressed than usual about something. Like if he'd started to burn out. Or if he'd been worried for friends or had gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd…

Few people came to visit Ryouta. His class came, once. The student representative came another day as well, but didn't stay very long. Kitsuka came almost every day. Naoko suspected it was more than her simply being grateful for all Ryouta's tutoring. Maybe it was pure friendship. Maybe it was a crush. But she was strong in coming back. Hospitals had that sort of oppressive atmosphere – or maybe it was only like that to people like her who'd lost people there.

And she'd almost lost Ryouta once there as well. A child with bandages wrapped around his head and his broken arm, waking up with someone else's name on his lips. One of the few things he'd ever managed to forget: the real name of that friend so precious to him back then.

Maybe, if she'd survived the fall, they'd be just as close now. She wondered if Kuroneko would be sitting beside her. Or she'd be drooling, having fallen asleep on the hard-backed chair. She'd be a mix of serious and cheerful. She'd probably have understood the doctor as well. She'd been a clever little girl, aside from her fascination with aliens. Naoko couldn't remember he real name either. There was no grave; the parents had taken everything, including that, and moved away. And she'd cursed fickle head injuries then because Kuroneko's loss had changed Ryouta into someone so entirely absorbed into one goal.

She knew the look well enough. Her brother had it when he was caught up in some research. Her husband had it as well. But Ryouta hadn't been like that initially. He'd been the sort to try and understand _everything_. Until it became just about those aliens Kuroneko had died trying to prove to him. A little girl like that, dying because of research.

But, lately, it seemed Ryouta's interests were starting to spread out. He'd go on picnics with his friends, even. Spent a lot of time with them, it seemed. And he'd been found near the Observatory. Surely that meant he'd been with his friends then as well. They were in the same club together.

But she hadn't seen them at all, and that made her both upset and angry. What sort of friends were they to not visit in the hospital? She could think of three reasons: they had their own emergencies (unlikely that all of them would disappear for that purpose), they felt guilty, or they'd been Ryouta's friend for ulterior motives.

As harsh as it was, she really hoped it was one of the former two. Ryouta would never forget them. He never forgot something he saw in passing, let alone the people he'd thought were his friends for months. He already had deep scars in his heart: from the accident that had claimed his father and brother, and from the fall that had taken Kuroneko. That was when she'd thought it would have been kinder if the bump had stolen those sad memories and the scabs on those scars as well. Maybe they would have been able to heal properly that way. Maybe they'd have been a little closer – because after clinging to her shirt and crying his eyes out, Ryouta had drifted away.

She'd cycled through all of those thoughts, and it was Ryouta's photographic memory she was thinking about when he opened his eyes.

They flickered slowly, almost languidly. She almost missed it except for the nose in the back of his throat. A sort of croak…and no wonder. He'd been getting nutrients and saline through an IV all week. His eyes were dull as well. They looked like hers after the accident, after the funeral. She sighed and shook her head, then looked at him again. 'Ryouta?'

He tilted his head towards her. ''kaa-san?' His voice was barely a whisper, and laced with confusion.

'Of course.' Her own speech was a bit rough. Unintentionally so, but she'd changed over time and that was the sort of woman she'd turned in to. One who did care, but often had to bury it away because of something else: because she had to support the family, because she had to support Ryouta, because Ryouta was growing too complex for her to understand… 'Water?' she asked.

Ryouta blinked, then blinked again and asked: ''kaa-san?'

Naoko blinked as well. 'Yes?'

There was silence for a moment, and then she asked again. 'Water?'

Ryouta's brow furrowed and a wince danced across his face. Then he blinked again and tilted his head a little more. ''kaa-san?'

Was Ryouta not hearing the question, Naoko wondered, or was it something else. Hearing "kaa-san" the first time was heart-warming. Hearing it the second time was odd. But hearing it the third time was a little frightening.

'I'll…go call a doctor.' And Kogorou. No doubt they'll talk about memories in words she wouldn't fully understand and she'd be thrown out of her depth again.

Well, she was already out of her depth.

The word echoed in her mind. Funny how Ryouta's first word, and no different to most children, was said so…differently now.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Left Side of Memories**  
><em>Chapter 4<em>

It was ironic that, in trying to erase something committed to long term memory, they'd instead erased the capacity to form short-term memories. Kazumi reread the latest updates on Murakami's files but the words did not change. Nor were they updated again. She supposed that meant they had their hands full addressing the immediate problem hadn't gotten around to assessing whether he still retained his long term memories or not, and to what extent.

A week and a bit had passed, and that meant they were back together again – or as together as they could be without Kotori or Ryouta. Still in the observatory because there was nowhere else safe they knew… And it wasn't safe. Valkariya had found them. But Valkariya was dead. Hatsuna had found them as well. But Hatsuna was on their side. And good she was on their side otherwise Kazumi wouldn't be alive – and Murakami would have died back then as well.

And they couldn't guarantee Hatsuna would always be able to revive him, revive any of them. The rest of them were at least resigned to death and they had a reason to be. Their bodies had been tampered with and their minds as well, to the point where they were only shells of humans. And they'd lost enough friends.

Thanks to Murakami they'd survived long enough to get a steady stream of the supplements.

Unless Ryouta's uncle put things together and decided they weren't worth helping. And considering what they'd done to cut ties with Murakami…well, who would blame him?

**.**

An aneurysm without a known cause. Not unusual in the medical world but Kogorou could imagine a blood vessel blowing up just like things in his office had when Ryouta brought what he'd called a witch along.

But those material things hadn't led to doubt, to uncertainties, to a sequelae of events and consequences that couldn't have been easily foreseen. It had been a stupid idea, trying to damage the brain in order to get a desired result. The brain was too fickle for that, and here was the proof.

Ryouta couldn't seem to hold a memory for more than a few seconds, and it made interacting with him near impossible.

If it were minutes, they could have worked with it. Pencil and paper. Writing dialogue instead of speaking it. It would be slow and tedious but it would also be possible. But seconds weren't enough to finish writing a thought, and they were left with starts of sentences that made little sense on their own.

And science wasn't advanced enough yet to repair brain tissue or neuronal circuits. Ironic, since they'd obviously been able to tinker with the brain in other capacities: Vingulf and the witches were proof of that. But this was different, and unless one of those witches had the capacity to turn back time or repair the damage and rewind the cascade that had continued after it, they'd have to rely on the current expanse of medical technology and their own hopes.

It was not his field of research, but Ryouta was his family and he'd do it if need be.

But, realistically, he was looking at years, if not more.

He sighed and looked at the papers once again. His nephew's file, as well as the scraps of paper they'd been writing on in an attempt to converse with him. There were a lot of where's on there – "where am I?" perhaps. First questions a lot of patients who lost consciousness before arriving tended to ask. Though in Ryouta's case he'd probably repeated it a number of times. But that didn't mean he wasn't asking something else, that something else wasn't bothering him. Like where the girls were.

They were at the observatory, and that was another simple answer. Kogorou knew because he'd sent the supplements there when they were done. A part of him afterwards wondered why he'd bothered, though that was another question with a simple answer. Ryouta had asked him to, had essentially begged for that aid. And he didn't have much family left now. Just Naoko and Ryouta. If he couldn't help them, then what was there beyond his own selfish desires?

More important now though was to work out a way of communication.

**.**

Surprisingly (or perhaps not surprisingly since there was nothing wrong with the right side of Ryouta's brain) his mental arithmetic hadn't suffered. And it was soothing for Naoko as well, listening to Kogorou spit out questions and Ryouta answer them. For the pair, it was little different than asking what one plus one equalled over and over: the mental arithmetic took less seconds than forgetting the question did, and that was at least one sort of full circle they were able to draw.

It was hopeful, at least. If not particularly useful. Kogorou thought to himself afterwards how mental arithmetic could be utilised in a more communicable form, or how that few second window could be better used.

People who suffered strokes were sometimes in similar situations. For them, there were computer programmes and support systems…and the hope that the effects of the stroke would be a temporary thing. And perhaps this aneurysm was temporary in that as well. But that was the hospital's idea and they were pursuing it as well. A computer notebook, after the scraps of paper they'd previously tried. Ryouta was a little faster at typing than he was at writing, but the thoughts hadn't grown much in length.

They could build, perhaps. Children started speaking words before sentences after all.

But at the end of his own process of thinking, he'd only come up with the possibilities that were already being tried.

**.**

Ryouta's memory book began to grow a little. He could type fast and read faster, and the few seconds were enough to read the thought and add to it. They didn't know if it was the same thought or a different one, whether the sentences changed along the course like it did in Chinese whispers or it stayed true to itself.

But with that, they could hold a conversation. A very long-winded one and one that would perhaps be misunderstood several times before its conclusion, but a conversation nonetheless.

Kogorou brought his own laptop with him from then on, so they could "talk" about the witches without it going onto the doctor's records.

As for the doctors, they asked about his memories. Simple things first, like name, age, date and other profile-like facts. Age was perhaps the easiest questions of those, and the one that didn't take multiple tries. When one "try" ended and another began was obvious. Ryouta would pause, would read again, then type some more. It was like a scratched DVD, constantly freezing, then skipping ahead a tad, then freezing again.

It accomplished its goal though. Or the neurologist's immediate goal, to know the effect on long term memory. Both personal and academic related memories were intact.

Which Kogorou thought was rather ironic, considering his suspicions. And quite a pain. Ryouta really might have been happier if it had been the other way. Or not. Kogorou didn't have a memory like his nephew, but he remembered the drastic change that had occurred in him some time ago, when a friend had died. Maybe he wouldn't have returned to the boy he'd been before that. But the teenager after that would have been find. The Ryouta studying and looking at the stars and moon and planets and attempting to find proof of aliens existing…

'Naoko,' he said. 'Do you think the Ryouta of last year or this year was happier?'

Her eyes were red as she gave him a bewildered look. 'This year,' she said, after a pause. 'He had been more…animated.'

Having something concrete to struggle for had reanimated him. That was likely.

'But,' Naoko continued. 'I assumed it was those new friends of his, except where are they?' Because she didn't know about the complications that ran deeper. She only knew that Ryouta had made new friends, and they hadn't visited him at the hospital like a friend was expected to. She didn't know those friends were actually objects of scientific experimentation, and Ryouta had taken many risks to be friends with them and hide them in the observatory, and an even larger one to come to him asking for his aid.

He wondered if it would be a risk to go to them. And if he actually wanted to go to them. Was it better to just cut ties with them? But he'd posted the supplements to the observatory. He'd need a way to cover that trace before their association could be dissolved. Or he could simply withhold them.

But that wasn't an option at all. Because when he'd mentioned the supplements, Ryouta had asked: "you made?" and "they have" and though it was hard to catch the fleeting relief before his short term memory reset, Kogorou was sure he'd seen it on Ryouta's face.

**.**

Kazumi caught the updated reports, and this time Hatsuna was reading over her shoulder and muttering under her breath.

'Stupid brains,' she said. And it was lucky Neko didn't recall because she would feel guilt twice over for the result.

They'd been aiming for Murakami's long term memory. But it looked to be entirely in tact, and they'd hit the short term memory instead: the capacity of processing the environment for a period longer than a few seconds. It gave the term "in one ear and out the other" a different, and rather chilling, spin.

And now they had to ask the question of whether or not it was worth it, to keep Murakami safely away from them.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Left Side of Memories**  
><em>Chapter 5<em>

It was hard to think, now. Every time he caught a thought it slipped away and there was a perpetual state of confusion within his mind. And it wasn't like he'd go completely blank for a moment. It wasn't like there was any moment in between where the world made perfect sense. There was always something missing. It was like a puzzle of four pieces and he always had one or two, but those one or two were always changing and the only thing constant was that they never made an entire picture. Sometimes they didn't even fit together. Like he'd see his mother in front of him but hear a male voice talking. Those two things just didn't go together and if he turned his head just a little, a few seconds later he'd forget his mother was standing there.

It was frustrating. And it was frustrating that he couldn't even read a book or do anything more complex than simple mental arithmetic – and the only reason he could do those, like "what's one plus one? Oh…two" was because the entire process was over in a few seconds. That was the whole_ purpose _of mental arithmetic – to be able to do it in your mind without preamble.

But he had more complex things to think about, like the girls, like Vingulf, like the supplements – but he couldn't hold onto those thoughts long enough.

Until Kogorou and the doctors looking after him brought a laptop. And that was a slow process, because it took a little longer each time to read what was already written and reacclimate himself with the context – and then after a bit it was gone again. The first times it was hopeless; at some point he simply wasn't fast enough. But his body got used to it, it seemed, adapted – because that was the only way he could hold any sort of meaningful conversation at the time. He managed to ask about the supplements. Kogorou gave a quick affirmative and he didn't get a chance to ask the details.

The "are they okay?" question was a little trickier. Ryouta found himself writing question marks after the answer and then staring at them afterwards, but he'd written no explanation and neither had Kogorou. This was a personal laptop and it was always with Kogorou. And Ryouta still had the foresight to not mention those things to the doctors or on the ward laptop. Those previous thoughts, and warnings and such attached to them, remained with him. It was just his capacity to form new memories, new neural links, that was impacted.

And they asked him. The most pressing question was _how_ and he didn't answer it. For the most part, he _couldn't_ because a few seconds wasn't enough to thumb through that confusing moment, wasn't enough to pick up on the hint of suspicion, the hint of understanding, the hint of denial. Even after her wrote it down it made little sense, though maybe that was because of the little white lie he put in any time: that desire to not mention Neko, to protect her.

The thought that maybe she'd been protecting him didn't quite make it out, because he hadn't managed to get to the point where he could reason out that she was the cause. Not even Kogorou knew.

**.**

Ryouta's loyalty was remarkable, but unnecessary. There was little question of it, because the girls had sent the recipe and asked for supplements, and seeing them would only confirm that suspicion.

The doctors didn't need to know the truth. He didn't really need to either, not _that_ truth anyway. The reason was more important and though he was fairly sure, he was still concerned.

He'd also come to wonder if they knew a way to help. The girl called Kazumi claimed to be able to hack into any computer in the world. She'd have access to information no other person had, the research of greedy men and women who never went public, or the unfortunate ones who never got a publication. Or another witch like themselves who had a healing power who could reverse the damage…

And if they argued he was safer, he was only safer because he was confined to the hospital and even that wasn't necessarily true.

And once his mind started considering the possibilities, he knew he really did have to go, even if part of him was reluctant to.

**.**

The air was stinging: a cold, biting, autumn wind. Kogorou walked briskly through it, and that made his breath even colder. But that was fine. Cold meant sharp and the combination was a good environment for some fresh thoughts, or thoughts without things like anger or hurt attached.

The anger fluctuated, but it tended to be more with the situation. If he'd discovered them and they'd had nothing to do with Ryouga, it mightn't be like that but the simple fact that Ryouta cared for them and risked so much for them made Kogorou a little more empathic to the situation. Particularly with Nanami. Particularly when the other girls had risked their memories to make a friend of a girl so desperate for them. Particularly when Nanami sacrificed her friends' memories to die without adding a burden to them. Particularly when Kuroha had cried even after she forgot who she cried for.

That prompted a new train of thought. Kuroha had cried for Nanami even after she'd forgotten her. Would Ryouta have remained anxious, remained worried, continued drifting to the observatory even if he _had_ forgotten? He wouldn't have been safe then. And even if the memories of the witches and everything associated with them were completely obliterated and he went back to his normal, pre-witch, life, there was still no guarantee. Others wouldn't forget. There was a trail out there that someone might pick up one day, and Ryouta wouldn't know how or why or what he'd learnt along the way to stop it.

And with that in mind, the small bit of doubt in his mind grew. If he'd thought of it, surely they'd thought of it as well. Unless they were desperate. But what would make them act so suddenly? Especially if Ryouta hadn't been more wary? Unless his trust had been so complete. Unless he really was that naïve, and for the most part, he wasn't. Just when it came to trying to prove the existence of aliens, when it came to constantly staring up into the sky.

It was convenient, that the first witch Ryouta had any contact with resembled his childhood friend. Perfect for a conspiracy theory and the very existence of witches was conspiracy enough.

But when he saw the MRI, all he could describe the injury as was care. The conspiracy was there, but not from her, and maybe not from any of those girls, powerful but powerless as well. Pulled along by puppet strings – it was rather sad, even to a scientist who sentenced countless rats to the same fate. And maybe it was naivety, and he couldn't let go of doubt because of that, because that would mean to put his family at risk.

But he couldn't wholly blame those girls either, no matter what the cause of his nephew's current condition.

**.**

Thanks to Kazumi's surveillance, they recognised Ryouta's uncle approaching the observatory long before he arrived. And there were hushed whispers between Kazumi, Kana and Hatsuna about why and what to do about it. Neko listened, but she didn't remember much of anything so wasn't a whole lot of help. They argued back and forth: the man had helped them, but that had been at Murakami's request and they no longer had Murakami to depend them. Worse, Kogorou was Murakami's uncle. He was family. And as a scientist, he was very smart. He might have worked out that they were the reason Murakami was in the hospital now, barely able to function. He might be coming because he was angry.

His expression on the cameras didn't give very much away. Nor did his long strides, measured and even.

But, in the end, what could they really do? If they disappeared, they lost access to the supplements, even if they had enough warning to get a head start thanks to the man's habit of walking to his destination instead of relying on any form of transport. And they'd die in a month, because that's all the supplements they had, and Hatsuna's regenerative magic wouldn't save any of them.

So they could only wait for whatever Murakami's uncle was bringing with him: whatever emotions, whatever questions, whatever blames, whatever – punishments.

And, as far as Murakami went, they deserved that because they'd already gotten him killed once for no reason other than choosing to help them.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Left Side of Memories**  
><em>Chapter 6<em>

They were waiting for him. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, considering the hacker. It was actually quite clever of them, to watch the roads leading up to the observatory. And they didn't look threatening either – though, if Ryouta's story of them saving him from the police was anything to go by, they could be far more dangerous than they appeared.

Still, he didn't think he needed to worry, because not only would they put their own livelihoods at risk by hindering the only person who could supply them with their supplements, but he was Ryouta's uncle as well. In a sense he had both arms covered. But a man didn't walk alone without defence. He wasn't that trusting, that foolish.

But at the moment he wasn't concerned, nor afraid.

'Hello,' he said calmly. 'I noticed you haven't come to visit my nephew yet.'

There was Kazumi, and Neko, and Kana – who was, surprisingly, standing up. He thought she was paralysed. And a girl he didn't recognise standing with them.

'You should introduce yourself,' the unfamiliar girl said, 'before barging into someone's home.'

'My apologies.' He raised an eyebrow, mind racing underneath. _Their home…_ It was an almost foolish choice of words. They signified attachment. They signified a reluctance to leave – and when they were being chased, staying in one place and calling it their home was a very risky thing indeed. 'I thought this was a district-owned observatory.' He paused, then added: 'My name is Kogorou.'

Kana elbowed the girl. 'We've explained him to you, Hatsuna,' she hissed.

Kogorou stepped forward. 'Ah, Kana. I recall you being wheelchair bound the last I saw you.'

'The result of a one in a hundred chance,' was the reply, shaking a little now. 'How…is Murakami?'

Kogorou considered them. They all had a worried curiosity on their face. 'That depends on what you know,' he said finally.

'We hacked into the hospital computers,' admitted Kazumi. 'But they only say so much. And we can't go see him. If we wind up reminding him, or someone sees us –'

'Yes.' Kogorou felt his lips twist into a smirk. 'Except Ryouta hasn't forgotten. That's simply sensitive information we chose to keep off the hospital computers.'

It was quite amusing to see their reactions. Hatsuna buried her heads in her hands and muttered something. Neko's face fell. Kazumi just buried her face in her hands and Kana fell with a plop onto the scene behind her. And it hadn't even been a large bombshell he'd dropped. Or it shouldn't have been. A simple comment. A simple observation – but, of course, they hadn't gone to see Ryouta and so they wouldn't have known.

'Well?' Kogorou asked, when nobody said a word.

'Why did you come?' Hatsuna was the one to raise her head first. Perhaps it was because she was the one who'd never met him before, the one who associated him the least with Ryouta. Or perhaps she was herself associated the least with Ryouta: the newcomer who had a level of ignorance that came with inexperience. Like a child who'd been told something was wrong but was yet to experience the wrongness herself.

'I wanted an explanation,' said Kogorou carefully. 'Hear your explanations, because I have a few theories of my own and not all of them are to your benefit.' He paused, and then added: 'After all, I am the one supplying you all with your supplements.'

'We know,' said Hatsuna, and she seemed to droop a little. 'Damn it. I barely knew Murakami-kun but we owe him all this.'

'The observatory,' Kana explained. 'Our lives many times over. This…family. This temporary stability. We owe him even for his friendship because he risked his life just by offering it.

'But every bit of help he gave us put him in danger.' Kazumi spoke now. She was still looking at her feet, thinking of something else, of the part of the story they were still dodging around, still avoiding. 'Every bit of help we accepted put him in danger. The amount of times he could have died and most of them were because of us.'

'We saved his life once and put it in danger at least ten times since,' Kana said flatly. 'We – Neko and I – ' Neko, to Kogorou's surprise, was fidgeting in her place and glancing between her fellow Witches, as though she was a child surrounded by parents, as though she understood nothing of what they were discussing. 'We'd just meant to save him and move on, but he took after Neko. Recognised her as his childhood friend and he couldn't leave that alone.'

'Of course,' Kogorou agreed. 'That's just the way Ryouta is. So then the two of you accepted his help and this little family grew – and then what? What changed?'

He knew it wasn't Nanami. None of them even remembered Nanami, who'd wiped herself from their minds.

'Valkariya,' Kazumi whispered. 'She killed him.'

Kogorou started at that, and its implications. 'You mean he – You girls – '

'It was Hatsuna,' said Kazumi.

'And you and Neko,' added Kana, before turning back to Kogorou. 'Hatsuna's ability is regeneration. We'd thought she could only regenerate herself, but she managed to repair the damage Valkariya had done – and in return she melted. But Murakami-san's heart was still dead, and so Kazumi and Neko –'

'Did CPR,' Kogorou shook his head. It would have been amusing in a different context, or perhaps even at a different time. The sort of thing a mischievous adult could use as teasing fodder against his favourite nephew. 'This regeneration ability – does it come with any weaknesses?' He hadn't considered that possibility at all.

'I melt,' said Hatsuna, as though that was weakness enough. 'It takes me a full day to regenerate myself after that.'

'So you can heal a maximum of one person per twenty four hours,' Kogorou concluded. 'But why is your melting different to the Harnessed being released?'

They were drifting off the topic a little, and the girls glanced at each other as though noting that. But it couldn't be helped. Kogorou was a man of science, a man who dug through every word to understand a sentence, who dug through every sentence to understand a conversation and who dug through every piece of literature out there to understand a topic.

Hatsuna shrugged. 'I don't know,' she said, 'but you asked about weaknesses. I can only heal a person within five minutes of them being dead, and I'm limited in the amount of damage I can heal as well. Since I start melting as soon as I begin the process of healing another person…'

Kogoru processed that. The girls stood uncomfortably, until Kazumi interrupted the silence. 'Can you yell at us or _something_?!'

'Why?' Kogorou raised his eyebrow. 'Naturally, I have a hard time believing what I haven't witnessed for myself, but say for a moment what you've said is true –'

'It _is_ true,' hissed Kana, uncharacteristically angry. 'Maybe you don't know how hard it is to watch, immobile, but I saw every bit of it and could do nothing. Not one damn thing.'

Kogorou put up a placating hand. That sort of passion was hard to forge, and it wasn't though he disbelieved them, strictly speaking, in any case. 'Let my rephrase that,' he said calmly. 'I only meant I believe you as far as I can believe without having witnessed it for myself.'

'You still want proof of our powers,' Kana said, more flatly now.

He inclined his head. 'Do you remember a witch called Nanami?'

They looked at each other. 'I think Murakami-san mentioned her once,' said Kazumi. To the others, she added: 'Remember? When there was that mess on the floor and nobody knew where it came from?' She paused, then winced and added: 'Sorry, Neko.'

'It's okay,' said Neko, who hadn't spoken until then. 'It can't really be helped.'

So Neko had also lost her memory somehow. Kogorou filed that tidbit away to inquire about later. In any case, Kazumi's vague response was answer enough for him. 'Nanami claimed to have the power to alter memories,' he explained. 'Ryouta called me because she had something attached to her harness – something that could be activated remotely and eject her. That mess you mentioned was her after that ejection.'

They gaped at him, except Neko who faintly repeated: 'Eject?' No-one answered her.

'You were there,' Kana said slowly. 'You were there that day. That was your proof?'

'But how do we know you're not lying?' Hatsuna snapped. 'None of us remember –' She cut herself off when she realised the implication of Kazumi's response. Ryouta did remember. 'Why did he -?'

'Frankly,' said Kogorou, 'I'd like to know why her power didn't work on him, when it can even affect an enhanced body like all of yours.'

He hadn't quite put it together himself until then, but it was as though little fragments of things were coming together, building a road. A hypothesis of sorts: a possible answer to why even such a dangerous scheme hadn't yielded the intended result.

He shook himself. He'd come in the capacity of Ryouta's uncle, he reminded himself, not a scientist searching for an intellectual challenge. 'In any case,' he said, when no-one responded to his previous line of thought – and though he'd hoped, he hadn't really expected them to, 'your little plan has backfired. Ryouta has no problem recalling all of you, and about witches in general. The effects of the damage are elsewhere. So…' He drawled it out, looking at the one with the regenerative ability, Hatsuna, in particular. Though it was far beyond five minutes; he knew. 'What are you going to do now?'


	7. Chapter 7

**The Left Side of Memories**  
><em>Chapter 7<em>

What were they going to do now? They'd taken a risk and it hadn't really paid off. Yes, it was keeping Murakami away from them, but since he remembered them still, for how long? And if he took a research route, or his uncle with his digging about unearthed something, Vingulf could still come to their door.

Honestly, Vingulf could come whether Murakami was able to forget them or not, if they ever found out he'd had a connection to them. _Hell, if they ever find out about Dresden_… Even if she hadn't been there for that little escapade. They'd screwed up his survival chances bigtime…but if they hadn't, they wouldn't all be alive now.

Hatsuna started with Kazumi punched the wall. 'Damn it,' she muttered. 'How the hell do you protect a guy?'

'The stereotypical role of the protector is usually the guy's,' said Kogorou, somewhat amused by her reaction. It was more passionate than the others. More…emotional. There was something other than simple gratitude – or complex gratitude, given the situation, there. If he had to hazard a guess (despite the fact that it was completely irrelevant), he'd say that Kazumi had a crush on his nephew.

'Neko saved his life.' Kazumi shrugged. 'Kana had a vision of him dying in a mudslide, and so Neko had me transfer her over so she could stop it. Otherwise they wouldn't have met, and Murakami wouldn't have chased after her. And gotten me involved when you had me hack into the Dresden security.'

'You were also out of supplements,' Kana replied. 'That's the day we would have all died if Neko and Murakami hadn't broken in.'

'I know, I know, but –' Her face seemed to droop. 'The police vision, and then Valkyria. Makes you think you're taking too much, getting him almost killed, getting him actually killed – Hatsuna mightn't always be able to heal him.'

'Or you lot,' Hatsuna muttered. She'd turned away by that point, to stare at the wall. 'If Vingulf comes, probably the only person I'll be able to regenerate is myself. They'll just kill us all at once – the B witches they'd wanted to dispose of in the first place.'

'Perhaps not,' said Kogorou. 'You haven't been hunted _since_ Valkryia, have you?'

'No…' Kazumi said slowly. 'Kana?'

She shook her head. 'No visions either.'

'Which – ' Kogorou pulled out a seat. He was getting tired of standing up, especially after the long walk to the observatory. '- implies they're changing their approach to you after…I assume you beat Valkryia?'

'Neko did,' said Kana. 'Though she lost a lot of memories after that, including all about Murakami.'

'Interesting,' said Kogorou. He ignored Hatsuna's sharp glare as she turned back from the wall. 'And just how was a group of B witches able to defeat what's supposed to be, as far as you girls know, Vingulf's ultimate weapon?'

They glanced at each other. 'Ultimate witch,' Kana finally corrected. 'They were trying to create something bigger. Hexenjagd knows more about it.'

There were a lot of threads involved. A complicated problem to work through, especially in one sitting. 'Do you have the contacts for these Hexenjagd people? And what are they like?'

'Annoying,' said Hatsuna. 'They said something about hatching as well, but never really explained what that meant. And they had the recipe of the supplements but were more than happy to let us die. It was only the deal they made to get to Kotori that made them give it to us.'

'You traded her for the supplements?' He raised an eyebrow. That didn't match at all with how the girls had protested merging their supplements so one of them could live long enough for him to work out its composition and replicate it.

'No!' they all cried.

'What I meant,' said Hatsuna, more quietly. 'I saw Kazumi first. Because I melted after healing her, by the time I regenerated again, it was far too late. Just like it's too late to fix the damage Neko did because –'

'Don't sound like you blame Neko,' Kana snapped.

'I don't,' Hatsuna glared back.

Kazumi ignored them.

It seemed stress was getting to them all. 'Love is unscientific,' Kogorou said. 'It makes you do very uncharacteristic – and sometimes regrettable – things.' Then, just for clarification, he asked: 'Would there be any harm if you tried to heal him?'

Hatsuna thought about it. 'I've never tried and failed,' she confessed. 'I wouldn't know. It's probably not worth it with somewhere as fragile as the brain.'

'No,' Kogorou agreed. 'It seems I'll have to rely on the science I'm more familiar with after all.'

He'd gotten about as much as he would get from them, he decided after a moment's silence. 'You can send Hexenjagd's details to me,' he addressed Kazumi. She nodded.

He turned to leave.

'Can…we visit him?'

Neko was hovering at the door. The others didn't even glance at her, as though the question was in all of them, but they'd been stopping themselves from asking it. He recognised it as another foolish attempt at protection. Another that was going to fail, or backfire badly.

'Is it safe, you mean?' He raised an eyebrow. 'Theoretically, stepping foot outside this observatory isn't safe, and hospitals have pretty good surveillance, if not necessarily good security. But disguises aren't very hard to manage and he does ask about you all often.'

.

Kazumi hit the wall a few more times, until her knuckles stang. 'It seems like such a stupid idea now. Instead of protecting him, we've left him completely vulnerable.'

Hatsuna drifted to the stairs, but she didn't climb them. 'It was far too late to protect him,' she said flatly. She remembered the girl who'd sheltered her, dead despite not even knowing the truth. And Murakami knew far more, had done far more. 'You guys painted a bright target over his head long ago. It's useless to get rid of it.'

'It's easy for you to say,' Kazumi snapped back, 'since you were a puddle of goo when we were discussing this!'

'A puddle of goo after filling a gigantic hole in him!' Hatsuna's voice raised as well. Neko covered her ears. 'And if we hadn't figured that out, you'd be dead too, Kazumi!'

'We'd all be dead,' Kana interrupted. 'And why argue? What's done is done. Now we just need to fix what we've done –'

'Which is impossible,' Hatsuna muttered, folding her arms and turning away. 'Five minute time limit, remember?'

'I know.' Kana closed her eyes. 'But we're not helpless. There must be something we can do, even if it's just apologise.'

'Sure we can apologise.' Hatsuna looked as though she'd intended to say something more, but in the end chose not to. 'And the uncle didn't skewer us, which I suppose is a plus.'

.

They did wind up going after all, the next day and in whatever disguises they'd been able to dreg up. Not particularly professional, but they had a selection of clothing, Kana hid her rather distinctive hairstyle under a hat while Kazumi had tied a scarf over her's, and Neko had plaited hers into a schoolgirl style that made her look far younger. Someone from school might still recognise the latter two, but they were going while school was still in session to hopefully avoid that.

Murakami was, as Kogorou had told them, happy to see him. He managed to ask them "How are you?" and "Do you have –" with great concern at least twenty times each. Hatsuna had tried to hush the first couple, then realised he wasn't getting to the end of the question anyhow and left it with a grimace on her face.

The others, Murakami possibly included, were well aware it was only pity.

'He's usually more articulate.' The woman must have been Murakami's mother, because she didn't have a hospital nametag and she'd been sitting in before they'd arrived. 'It must be a bad day, and after you came all this way.' She paused. 'Shouldn't you be in school, anyhow?'

'We…were really worried,' Kazumi explained finally. The others said nothing; backstories were always her department. 'We kind of skipped school today.'

Her expression grew more sympathetic, though there was still a hint of suspicion. Wondering where they'd been in the past few days, probably.

'We only heard yesterday,' she continued. 'We've been away before that. Personal issues.'

'Oh.' She seemed to put something together. 'You're _those_ friends of his. The ones he'd take food for, sometimes.'

Sprouting shame-faces of different magnitudes, they all nodded.

That was about the most dramatic moment of their visit, and they were all relieved.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Left Side of Memories**  
><em>Chapter 8<em>

Ryouta was still asking about the girls, but with the damage to his hippocampus, Kogorou couldn't really expect anything less or more. At least it wasn't with the same expression – and that did give a slight cause of surprise. The role of different areas of the brain, Kogorou supposed. The amygdala in recording emotion. An entirely different memory system that seemed to be in tact.

The brain certainly was a complex thing, mused Kogorou. And after a few tries, Ryouta was able to remember the girls had visited and were okay as well. Right at the top of his precious file.

.

It wasn't that he forgot the girls had visited, had apologised profusely when his mother had ducked out for some reason or other. It was just that he had limited time to think about something before it slipped away from him.

It took him a long time to realise he was still recording new memories, despite his apparent short-term memory dysfunction.

It took him even longer to work out what could possibly be the cause. And longer still to piece together enough words to explain it to his uncle.

In a couple of days, though, he managed it.

_Recording messages. Think Nanami safe and doing it._

.

Kogorou read the words. _Interesting,_ he thought. And lucky, as well. It helped Ryouta out immensely…though, of course, there was still the problem of his mind resetting itself every three seconds. The only problem, it sounded like, if Nanami could make up for the deficit in memory.

But that made him wonder. Ryouta had never fully explained, and so it required quite a bit extra effort now, but he described it as Nanami having downloaded herself onto his memory. Which was a somewhat odd choice of words, and he only wished he could talk again to Nanami. But only Ryouta could see her.

He chuckled at himself as that thought was struck down. When had he started to simply accept such bizzare things? Or perhaps, since it was his nephew involved, he'd always accepted them?

Still, dealing with someone invisible to him, and whose only conduit was a boy who couldn't hold a thought for more than three seconds, would be quite the challenge. And may not bear any fruit.

He wondered which avenue was more worth pursuing. Nanami, Hexenjagd…or the riskiest of them all: Vingulf itself.

But if he did the last, he'd almost certainly bring them to their doorstep – even if they were the best bet, with what they'd managed to produce with the witches (though that was also ignoring all the ethics and human rights they'd literally stamped upon). Which only left the first two as viable options, and the first as the safest.

But a desperate person could do desperate things. Hadn't he told those witches as much?

He sighed, opened up a document, and began typing questions. 'If you're listening, Nanami,' he said to the room at large, 'these questions are for you.'

.

Kana frowned. There'd been a trickle of hope in that vision and then it had faded away.

'What is it?' Neko asked.

'Murakami…' Kana said slowly. 'For a moment, it looked like he'd be back to normal…but then something changed.' She blinked at the ceiling. 'Someone must have thought of an idea that would work, but then discarded it.'

'Why would they do that?' asked the other girl, confused. 'If it's a good idea…'

Kana shrugged. 'Maybe it's not a good idea.'

After all, their idea had turned out to be pretty bad.

'Well…' The old Neko would have been proactive, but this one was missing too much of her memories. Still, she tried to puzzle through Kana's vision. 'Maybe…a doctor?'

'Maybe… Kazumi could work out who the treating physician is.' But truthfully, there was no guarantee that it was that doctor, or any working directly with Murakami, who'd come up with the idea. There was no guarantee whoever had come up with the idea even remembered it.

But they could fix it, so didn't it warrant searching?.

.

'Of course it does!' Kazumi exclaimed with a grin. 'That's the best news I've heard all week.'

'Better would be if the idiot hadn't thrown a good idea out the window,' grumbled Hatsuna. She was still in a sour mood.

'It mightn't be a good idea at all,' said Kana. 'I only know it works because I can see the future. It might be something crazy like… I dunno, drilling more holes?'

'That's ridiculous,' said Hatsuna. 'It's not a pressure problem.' She frowned. 'Could it have to do with getting into contact with dangerous people?'

'Like underworld markets? I can check that,' said Kazumi, but she found nothing useful at all.

_Dangerous_… Kana mused. 'What's dangerous for the brain?'

None of them were doctors, or medical students. They didn't have much of an idea, despite the research they'd done.

'Maybe we should contact Murakami's uncle,' Kana sighed, eventually. 'He knows the doctors better, and he's got a science head.'

.

'A vision,' Kogorou repeated, blinking at the world. More things beyond his understanding were piling up in front of him. 'Explain to me the limits of these visions of yours.'

'I see what will occur unless something changes,' Kana explained. 'I can't affect the future while I'm there physically. Sometimes it's not very clear – but since Valkryia, it's been much clearer. This vision was particularly short though – like the decision that prompted it was fleeting and quickly cast aside, replaced by something that meant things would continue as they are currently and that one was taken as a decision…'

'So that changed the substance of your dream.' Kogorou took out a pad and pen. 'And when did you say this was?'

He almost started at her reply. He'd been in the hospital then, just before typing his questions for Nanami. He'd looked at the time on the laptop, so he was sure of that. What ideas had he considered? Vingulf, Hexenjagd and Nanami. And only Nanami was a new avenue.

But he'd settled on pursuing Nanami as a lead, hadn't he? Which meant that, according to Kana, it would be a dead end. Unless it was somebody else of course…but the likelihood was slim.

'Are you still there?' asked Kana.

'I am,' said Kogorou. 'I had an idea is all.'

'Of who?'

Should he tell them? He didn't like having to act so blindly – but what choice was there? Things were suddenly too complex for everyone involved…and it was for Ryouta's sake, in the end. 'Me,' he confessed. 'I was thinking about things then. I settled on a course of action, but now you're telling me it's useless.'

'That simplifies things,' said Kana, after a pause. 'What other options did you consider?'

'Hexenjagd and…' Should he really be telling them this? 'Vingulf?'

'…what!' she shrieked. 'Have you lost your own brain?'

'I should like to think it's intact,' Kogorou replied calmly. 'Mine's not the issue, here.'

'Yes, but – ' She seemed to flounder a little, before dropping her voice to a near whisper. 'But Vingulf?'

'They've made a perfectly ordinary girl gain the power to see the future,' he pointed out, 'and another capable of regenerating a person considered medically dead, and another who can hack into any computer in a matter of seconds…'

'Point,' she admitted, 'but they're hardly the sort of person who'll extend a handshake. They are trying to kill us, and anyone who finds out about us. You can't even justify knowing about them without running the risk of getting killed. Their workers are all people who've cut ties off everywhere, who've basically vanished off the planet! They're near impossible to find, even if you used us as bait.'

'Ryouta would be displeased,' he said, to dispel that last notion. It wasn't his job to deal with their guilt anyhow. 'My point is they may possess the knowledge. Is there any way for your hacker girl to check?'

'You're considering it again…' said Kana, slowly. 'I don't know if Kazumi can do it, but it's coming back, that image.' She was silent for a moment, and then she cursed. 'Why does he have to be at his house? That doesn't tell us anything else.'

'He's at home,' Kogorou said slowly. 'Home and cured.' That was good enough for him, but he could see why it might cause concerns for the girls. They had no way of knowing if it had cost them anything. If it had cost them their lives. 'If you're correct, we know that his safety at least is guaranteed, if he's fine and returned home at the end of it. And my sister presumably as well.' Because he doubted Ryouta would live by himself in that large house if something did happen to her…though she was arguably the safest of all of them, in the veil of ignorance both brother and son had kept her in.

So now he had to think about an idea he'd discarded, and discard an idea he'd thought about. A merry chase this witch powers were leading him on. As a scientist, it ruffled his feathers greatly…but, as an uncle, it really couldn't be helped. Ryouta was beyond frustrated but still he tried, and tried to find a way around his own deficit as well, if the tidbit about Nanami was anything to do by. And, though perhaps not in the way they'd intended, it had given them a lead that would bear fruit – assuming they didn't make any wrong turns to change that vision along the way.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Left Side of Memories**  
><em>Chapter 9<em>

It took less than three seconds for Ryouta to process the implications – or, rather, the most glaring of them. 'No!' he cried, before the idea slipped away and he blinked, confused and quite possibly wondering why his heart hammered in his ears and his skin had flushed. In a little while, Nanami would help him remember it again, and more permanently, and a drawn out debate might have started if Kogorou hadn't been the adult. After all, he didn't need permission from his nephew to pursue a path that should benefit him.

And considering the girls had discussed it amongst themselves and agreed with him, Ryouta couldn't have even been their advocate. It was a shame when someone had no say in decisions that related almost entirely to them – but human society made it so there was no such thing as true independence. Again, not his area of study, but he knew enough to know it was impossible for something of this magnitude to affect only one person. There was Ryouta, yes, but there was also his family, his friends, his treating team, his classmates…and the girls who'd brought about the circumstance. In that sense, if one took the tree further and further, Vingulf was involved on multiple levels. He was perfectly justified in approaching them. But the world also didn't work on justifications.

That was a child's way of looking at things, and they were all experienced enough with the world to know better.

And he would be putting a lot of people's lives at risk in contacting Vingulf.

.

He didn't know where the others were, but he only needed Kazumi anyway. And he had to admit himself impressed with the system she'd set up.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, using it would be an unnecessary risk. So they'd taken a trip to Akihabara.

'You took your time,' Kazumi grumbled, getting off the bench. She was wearing a hat and sunglasses too. Probably to avoid her face being spotted if it came to that. "Of course," she'd said when the subject had come up, "Freya already knows it's me." And that was a concern in and of itself, but at least the other girls weren't put at risk by it.

'I walk,' Kogorou said calmly. 'I actually made good time.'

'You'd think, with your nephew's brain on the line, you might've taken the train for once in your life,' she sighed, but let it go. They weren't in any particular rush, after all.

The plan was, essentially, the same as Murakami's when he'd tried Hexenjagd's device. Except they didn't have a device like that. They had, instead, Kazumi's hacking skills and a private parlour. And a laptop and few other things with an external drive to help its processing power.

Hopefully enough to keep it from being traced back to his laboratory or the observatory, and the crowded environment of Akihabara was hopefully enough to stop Vingulf from being too hasty in their approach.

But they couldn't guarantee that, because they'd been willing to blow up an observatory to eliminate four witches from existence, after all. Still, Kazumi set up the computer without any hesitation, grumbling over brands in some cases but connecting everything nonetheless.

'My specialty is chemical sciences, not computers,' he shrugged.

'You certainly like delegating responsibility,' Kazumi muttered. She sounded almost amused as she hooked herself up. 'Okay, I'm ready.'

'Should I do something?' he asked, curious.

'Guide me.' She rolled his eyes. 'I'm the hacker witch. I don't know shit about science.'

.

Hacking into Vingulf once was insane enough. Hacking into it again was near suicide and Kazumi knew it, but she also knew it was unlikely Vingulf would have found a means to repel her so quickly. She stood a far better chance than she would say, a year down the track. Even if Freya got her act together, Kazumi could hold her own. She hoped.

In any case, she had a huge advantage against any witch from Vingulf. Love…or friendship or whatever Murakami would call it for himself. But it was love for her. She loved the life he'd made possible, but she loved him more than that life. She owed him for this. She loved him enough for this, no matter what the end. But she could take Freya. That wasn't the biggest danger.

Kogorou stood behind her, ready to instruct. If he was looking for a show, he'd be disappointed.

She locked into their system. 'Going in,' she said aloud, before plunging into the security.

The keyboard, at least, was top rate. Her fingers flew across the keyboard without catching or lagging in the least, and that was good because she couldn't really afford to let it lag. The security was patchy and had some holes that hadn't been there the last time, but they spotted her faster. They'd made up for the weaker security with more surveillance, then. She'd only just gotten past the firewall when she felt Freya's presence, attempting to override her.

But Freya was far weaker than Kazumi remembered, and she let a grin spread across her face. She shouldn't revel in another's torture. She knew that, and it was a witch too. But Freya was everything she could have been. Everything she hadn't wanted to be. Everything she'd almost been killed for –and gladly be killed, because she didn't want to kill before and she didn't now, either. Even though they were kind of the ones responsible for Valkyria's death…and the death of that scientist that had been with her. And Freya was the only time she'd ever hung up. So Freya was a bit of a special case.

Still, it wasn't as though she was glad the other had been tortured for her failure to keep her out. She was however glad it made for a weaker challenge. That made things easier, since she understood what she was looking for was less clear to her than what she'd searched for before. And she didn't have any witnesses she had to mislead, either. Just Kogorou, and Kogorou would help Murakami's even if it meant betraying them, so she didn't have to worry on that aspect.

They'd all made peace with the idea of sacrificing themselves for Murakami's sake a long time ago. She wondered when it had even been. When they'd met? Before that; when she'd first heard of him – and yelled at Neko for it too? Because it had been such as stupid move at the time…but it had turned out for the best at the time.

If it costed Murakami though, then no. It wasn't for the best at all. That was why they'd done what they'd done after Valkyria had killed him – and despite how Hatsuna acted now, she was sure the other would have done the same if she hadn't been reforming and incapable at the time.

After all, they'd thought she'd never return from that. And even if she did, her power still had limits. Time, for once. And the extent of the injury as well. She patched up a hole the size of two fists and it had melted her. How could she patch up anything more than that? A blast that, for example, blew away a whole half of the body? Vingulf had weapons of many calibre. Witches, machines…and whatever Kotori had been the vassal for. Too many ways to kill a mere human like Murakami. Too many ways they wouldn't be able to defend him or he them, no matter how clever he was with that brain of his.

Unconsciously, she searched for Murakami amidst the data plane. She was searching for brain and regeneration as well, but there hadn't been anything to suggest that Vingulf knew who'd been aiding them.

Except it did yield results, and Kazumi gasped and lost concentration enough to let Freya gain an inch against her.

'Damn it,' she cursed, as she tried to push him back.

'What is it?' she heard Kogorou, distantly, ask. 'Did you find something?'

'Murakami,' she panted. _Seriously, give the witch an inch and she'll ask for a mile._ She couldn't read the files without getting her further away. 'They know…Murakami. His name… They have a file on… his name.'

Kogorou said nothing. Maybe he was thinking. Maybe he'd realised she was fighting and needed to be entirely focused on her enemy. Or maybe he was in shock.

In any case, without having to answer or listen to instructions, she had a bit more capacity and managed to push Freya away a second time. 'This ought to keep you busy,' she muttered, putting up a wall. Not for very long against another hacking witch, but a few precious minutes.

And she opened the first of the files: that dated back several years.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** This chapter and subsequent ones contain spoilers for the more recent Brynhildr chapters. From one hundred and fifty-something. Can't remember the exact number, but it's the chapter Aphrodite appears. If you don't recognise the name, then this and future chapters will contain spoilers for you. XD

**The Left Side of Memories  
><strong>_Chapter 10_

The fancy language took a while to get used to, but she recognised the incident in the report after getting half a page in. Murakami had told them all about it. Told Neko multiple times. They were reminded of it multiple times in the early times as well. That time when the two of them had gone searching for aliens together and fallen from the top of the dam.

So these were Neko's results, then? That made sense. They must have known there'd been another person there –

She gasped again when she realised exactly what she'd just read.

…both victims too damaged to restore through conventional means…

'They were both dead?'

She read on. It explained a little about Neko's older sister and the original Valkriya. It also explained about a boy called Makina and his role as a sorcerian. Valkryia and sorcerian. Both involved combining human and alien in novel ways, in ways that possessed higher risks to the humans involved and so both would '…benefit from having back-ups in the two victims that have, like God's gifts, fallen into our hands?!'

That meant… That meant… Murakami as well had been modified by Vingulf. Made into half a human. But because he was a boy, because he lacked a harness, none of them had had any idea.

His memory wasn't just photographic. That was why even the magic of a witch wouldn't affect it. It was alien. All alien. And she was staring at the proof.

'Is that Ryouta?'

She jumped. She'd entirely forgotten about Murakami's uncle, behind her. He was peering over her shoulder. He'd probably read the notes as well. Now he was looking at the pictures attached. Of Neko and Murakami – both plainly recognisable, even though they were nearly half their current ages back then.

And Murakami, most definitely, had a mess of bone, blood and goo where his head should have been. So did Neko, for that matter, but they knew Neko was a witch. They knew Neko had been heavily experimented on.

Why was Murakami living a normal life if he had this buried in his past? Kazumi scanned the rest of the article, but it was all medical mumbo jumbo that went over her head.

'Are you done reading it?' she asked Kogorou.

He was silent for a moment, eyes raking the last few lines. 'Done,' he said, after a pause.

She went to the next file. Freya was there, suddenly, again. Her attention was split between grappling with her and reading the file. Or newspaper clipping. Something about a car accident. Murakami's name again. And that Makina guy's.

_Wait a sec…_

_Father and younger son, Makina, tragically killed, leaving mother and older son, Ryouta, behind…_

_Ryouta and this Makina are brothers?_ Murakami had never mentioned a brother… But then again, he never talked about his father, either. She knew he'd died. But that was about it. But Makina was the name of the sorcerian in the previous file. There was no way that was a coincidence. Not when they were talking about Vingulf's –

She coughed and spat out a trickle of blood. 'Damn Freya.' She tore her attention away from the article and shoved at the other hacker again. It took a good fifteen minutes. She'd let Freya get a foothold again, and even injured and slow as she was, she was good at what she did. She had to be, to still be alive after Kazumi had beaten her once. The other witches they'd bested hadn't been so lucky.

For the most part, they had Kana to thank for that information. But Kana could only see so much.

_How could this have been a good idea?_

Freya stumbled. Kazumi took the opportunity to throw her out again and opened the next article. She skimmed through those ones rapidly. Test scores. School reports. Following Ryouta's progress from primary school. The occasional medical report. Even a few psychological evaluations, after the whole dam incident. The psychologists were also from Vingulf, it seemed. Looking at how the incorporation of human and alien was handling life.

She felt bile rise to her throat, mingling with the aftertaste of blood. She'd lived through such things. She was such things. But Murakami had been different. Murakami was supposed to be the normal one, but they'd reached even him. Not that he knew. He was a pretty good liar when he wanted to be but not that good. He'd been sincere, and everything that'd gone through together was sincere. It wasn't fair that Vingulf had done this to him too…

But there'd been those photos. Murakami probably wouldn't have been with them if they hadn't. Neko too. At least with Murakami they'd fixed him and let him be. It was Neko she should feel for. And she did. Those lost memories. That lost love. Having to kill her own sister. Yeah, Neko did have it the roughest out of all of them.

But if they hadn't come into Murakami's life, he might've lived out his entire life never aware of this part of him. Or would Vingulf have come for him, in the end? If this Makina failed, like Mako had. Or if something else happened. Were they watching him in person as well, instead of just through the net. Had they known all along where the runaway witches were?

The ideas began to pile in her head. Had they just been testing him? Testing that alien brain they'd given him when he'd topped the country for the second year in a row without anything to challenge him any more? Were they testing his limits? Trying to find out his strengths? His advantages? Had they used Nanami just to see if he'd be able to resist her power or not?

But they couldn't have planned for this. They couldn't have planned for Neko doing what she did. Unless… They were still testing him. And the thought angered her, because how could they! How could they just sit and watch. Or stand in the shadows and watch as everyone suffered.

She shifted through the articles, keeping Freya at arm's length as she did. Nothing new and interesting came out. They were the two major reveals. Until she stumbled on the most recent reports. Familiar reports, that she'd already read once by hacking into the hospital's security. So Vingulf _were_ aware of his current condition. They were even aware of the witch power that had done it. Target A, they were calling her. Calling Neko.

She made a mental note of that, but first, she had to get through the rest of the Murakami related files. There wasn't anything new in them until the end. Talking about the inherent regeneration properties of the enhanced sorcerian and how they weren't replicated in the one left to live naturally. How the comparative results in that aspect were rather disappointing. How the correct balance between intellect and tissue regeneration had yet to be achieved, how Makina was too much regeneration and not enough intellect, while Ryouta appeared to be the other way around.

But that didn't answer the question of what they planned to do. What were they going to do with Murakami now? Leave him alone, leave the doctors to try and figure out a puzzle that would be forever beyond them because that wasn't even a human brain they were dealing with? Wasn't there going to be something in these files that could help them after all? Was this little excursion of theirs going to only leave them with despair?

She almost let Freya push her out this time, but remembered Neko. They'd called her Target A. After wanting her disposed of. She had to find out why. Even if it was likely as insane an answer as Murakami's. Even if it was going to be as unbearable, and as useless.

It was. They wanted her back because she was the backup for Valkryia and Valkryia was gone. They were making a new one, of course. But that would take years. Years they might not have. _What's the big rush? _She wondered. They were creating a new Grani as well. What Kotori had died for. _Why the hell…_

But they wouldn't do anything yet. They were waiting for a specific time. A specific phase. They were safe for the time being. Vingulf wouldn't be coming after them. Instead, Vingulf was content to let them wait until they hatched – _what is hatching?_ – or died by other means. It was even content to let them witness the end of the world, if it came to that.

'How little they think of us,' she mused, 'after all the times we kicked their butts, too.' She coughed again. Freya had clawed her way back, was filtering through the information Kazumi had already searched. She erased the final steps, the bits about Neko, about them. No need to make them change their tune. The stuff about Murakami was too late to hide, though. Was it arrogance or complacency, she wondered? Or mere distraction. She felt her harness hang up. Felt blood in her ears as well. Freya hadn't quite pushed her out – she'd done that herself – but she'd done a damn good job is messing her up in the process.

And Kazumi had done a fine job in messing up, too. 'Guess we didn't find anything useful.' She leaned back and closed her eyes. 'Sorry. You're going to have to walk back with me on your back.'

Kogorou regarded her. She couldn't quite make out his expression, and she figured she didn't really care as she let her eyes slip closed. But he did carry her back (or called a cab and broken his own edict), because she woke up the next morning in the Observatory and the girls said he'd brought her there.


	11. Chapter 11

**The Left Side of Memories  
><strong>_Chapter 11_

Hacking Vingulf's database hadn't yielded anything like what they'd expected. But it made more sense, now. Why Vingulf had suddenly left the witches alone. How Ryouta had managed to slip under the radar – because he was clever, but hardly street smart, and dealing with an organisation in the shadows would have probably been beyond any high school kid. Even beyond most adults. Even beyond the government, perhaps. If they'd appropriated so many children from their homes without being chased, then they'd slipped under that radar as well. Kuroha Neko was an exception, of course. A girl with evidence of death wouldn't be sought after, but the ones that had been essentially kidnapped were another story.

They'd gained a lot of information. A lot of it relevant to them. Not all of it helpful at the moment, but it might come in handy afterwards. He dropped Kazumi back off at the Observatory and went back to his laboratory. His files were fairly secure, but a hacker like Kazumi, and like that Freya witch, would easily be able to get to them. But those files were also irrelevant to them.

Except the research he'd done on the supplements, he realised belatedly. Why hadn't he used a computer not connected to any networks for that?

Because it would have been impossible, he answered himself. He needed to be able to access the network to research things. An unconnected computer was only good at holding records and simple processing, like what Ryouta was doing with it now. It wouldn't have been feasible to attempt research of the magnitude he'd needed back then.

But this Hexenjagd group was also under the radar…or were they? It was too bad they hadn't thought to check up on that while they were in the system. But even that niggled at him. It was poor security if one of their own witches could hack into their system. Though Kazumi claimed to have hidden her true ability, far happier facing elimination than killing with her power to prove her worth like the Freya girl. A system with holes, then. A system built on arrogance, on the belief that everyone valued their own lives above others when that was clearly not the case. And yet, if they'd needed Kuroha and Ryouta, they could have eliminated the others and left these two alone. Why leave all five? What sort of mastermind was behind Vingulf, to have so many wild cards in circulation?

Unless there was someone in the higher-ups who would much rather see Vingulf fall from the inside, which was possible but there had to be something else anyway, something covering that (or being that, if it wasn't true). Whether there was dissent in Vingulf was unimportant at the moment anyhow. It only mattered if they were within the facility, if there was a possibility then to bring it down from the inside. Not yet. Not until the scientists came calling, so to speak. When the other components of their grand scheme were ready.

And with the knowledge that Vingulf planned to leave matters regarding the witches alone, they could afford some planning, and some risks. Perhaps not another hack, with how Kazumi had struggled with this one. They'd work harder to protect their secrets. But there were still the girls, and their experiences in the lab. And there was still Nanami and whatever information she'd taken with her into Ryouta's mind.

She was whispering to him now, he thought. He'd decided to go ahead with the original plan anyway, though he'd modified his questions to ask more about Vingulf, their structure and their methods and the people involved, than what she could inform about her host's brain. Ryouta was typing answers now, rather more fluidly than if he'd have to think about the answers himself. He could follow Nanami's narration without having to pause and think, or rethink when that thread was lost, and that sped up the process and let him think about other things.

Now that they knew Ryouta's files had been accessed, what would they do? They could leave things alone, because they hadn't found anything that would help them in the immediate sense – but Kana's vision spoke against that. Her vision implied something would come out of accessing Vingulf…which meant it was one of the other two options. They'd whisk Ryouta away and do whatever had been done to Makina to him and keep him forevermore, or they would come under the guise of doctors and then continue their observation from afar.

As Ryouta's uncle, neither of those were favourable to him, but the second was far more so than the first. He'd rather Ryouta out of their thumbs entirely. He could see, however, that it would be impossible now. Perhaps impossible while Vingulf retained the structure they had, the immeasurable amount of power that the shadows hid. It would require making more contacts behind the scene. Planning an essential coup de tat, and then taking advantage of the commotion – or creating a commotion of another sort, when Vingulf came calling for their test subjects.

Ryouta closed the laptop. Kogorou slipped it into his bag and heard heavy footsteps approaching. He waited. They paused outside the door, then continued on. He had a childish impulse to chase them, and he did, bag slung over his shoulder.

He recognised the back of the man's head easily. 'Takachiho!'

The man paused, then turned. 'I'm surprised,' he said, though sounding remarkably unsurprised. 'I know my wife is at work so I was expecting no-one.'

'It's been…what? Thirteen years?' Kogorou raised an eyebrow. 'For Naoko and Ryouta to think you've been dead all these years. Do you plan to be the healing ghost?'

'For a scientist, you've adapted quite…colloquial tones,' the man responded, turning slightly. If the windows had been newly polished, he might have been able to make out the other's expression in them, but they were dill with dust. 'You are also aware for an unfortunate amount of information.'

'You can't fault me for that.' Kogorou smiles at that, though a tad sardonically. 'I am your brother in law. Your own curiosity though…' He frowned. 'Was it worth your family?'

'It is my family,' said the man cryptically. 'The valuable secrets are, of course, more preciously protected.'

'In other words, you strung my sister along.'

'Will you be the angry brother seeking revenge, then? Or the doting uncle?'

They were getting nowhere in their little game of words.

'Your children, then,' said Kogorou. 'You turned them both into test subjects. Did you plan to leave Ryouta as he was originally, or was he always your back-up plan?'

'The back-up, of course,' he said. 'He always was cleverer, and the dam incident provided a good opportunity to capitalise on it. Now, of course…'

'The crux of the matter.' Kogorou leaned against the wall. 'Why have you come here for?'

'Why, to see my precious specimen, of course.' And this time, it was Takachiho who smiled. His glasses caught the artificial light and gleamed, making that expression appear even more hollow. 'Some things simply can't be appreciated with the eyes of others.'

'Or were you perhaps worried about your son?' If there was a hole like this… His mind was spinning, though. Why Takachiho? Why Naoko? And where had Naoko found such a man, such a mess? It wasn't Ryouta after all. Ryouta had been involved before he'd even been born, and little baby Makina who'd never had a chance to know life as well. All unscientific thoughts, of course, but he was a man before he was a scientist. Naoko's sister. Ryouta's uncle. Maybe it was that which made him eccentric as far as scientists went, and not his personality quirks. Or maybe it was a combination of both. It didn't matter in any case. Or perhaps it did.

'And what have you appreciated?' he asked, when his previous question garnered no reply.

'The power of the human brain is disappointing when it comes to healing itself from injury,' replied the man. 'Of course, we've always known this…and done nothing about it. The alien brain on the other hand has astonishing regeneration, and retention, capacity…but lacks woefully in function. We'd blended the two to create what we'd hoped was the perfect hybrid however we seem to have fallen short on the alien concentration.'

'Retention,' Kogorou repeated. 'How have you fallen short in that?'

'Has it not occurred to you?' The man sounded disappointed, as though there'd been a set standard in their conversation and he'd fallen below it. 'A storage disk that records and wipes in essentially equal amounts will maintain equilibrium. In other words, it will always contain information and space, both. However, one that writes and cannot remove will eventually reach the point where there is not enough space left for new information, and then the point where the other processes that require that space – say, opening files, will become impossible.'

'And, in a cognitive viewpoint, the brain is essentially a computer,' Kogorou finished, catching the implication. 'So you're saying that, aside from the slowness of the regeneration,' and the only reason he knew the tissue _was_ regenerating was because of Vingulf's files, 'Ryouta is also approaching the point where he's running out of space to record new information and input. Assuming you'd planned to enact your grand scheme with the original Valkryia and Grani, then it would have been a non-issue as far as back-ups went. But now it's a problem, because your new specimens are not yet ready, correct?'

'Essentially,' said Takichiho. 'Of course, there are elements of our plan known to no-one.'

_Plan… Specimen…_

Those words angered him, if only because they were talking about Ryouta – no, talking about human beings. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered if his nephew hadn't been involved, if he hadn't come to his door begging for help for those girls… But they were all non-issues now. Ryouta was involved. Those girls were also involved. And it turned out they were more deeply involved than they'd realised before.

'You're Ryouta's _father,'_ he hissed finally, plainly.

'What is a father?' the man replied.


	12. Chapter 12

**The Left Side of Memories**  
><em>Chapter 12<em>

'What is a father?' Takachiho repeated. 'In its barest and simplest sense, the male parent of a human child. By definition, Makina and Ryouta are both sorcerian. Alien-human hybrids.'

'They weren't born that way,' Kogorou pointed out, 'and perhaps you could argue you followed a father's obligation towards their child in saving Ryouta's life…but Makina? Was he at risk before Vingulf began experimentation of him?'

'Will you attempt to discredit my explanations?' He raised an eyebrow behind his spectacles: barely noticeable, but the movement was there…and somewhat threatening. 'Next point is the legal definition, and that is through obligation. What obligation does a dead man have? Does it still concern you?'

'Yes,' said Kogorou, after a pause. 'Yes, it does.'

'Then perhaps you are more his father than I.' He sounded amused as he said it. 'For all you claim to be his uncle, you are his, in a way only, male role model. He's come to you with issues he can't even talk to his own mother about, after all.'

'You say there are things you can't appreciate through other's eyes,' Kogorou mused, ignoring the other tangent. That was for him alone, in any case. Not relevant to the current discussion at all. 'But you use them quite a bit.'

'Of course.' The man shrugged. 'There are many pieces to the grand scheme. Many things that need to be supervised. It's impossible for an ordinary set of eyes to do it all.'

'And, of course, you can't modify yourself until the method has been tested, tried and perfected.' Which was what they did with chemicals, but chemicals weren't sentient. Chemicals weren't alive. Chemicals weren't the same species as they themselves, and surely if things like sympathy and empathy existed anywhere (like humanity claimed it to), it would be towards their own kind first and foremost? 'Are you trying to create hybrids out of the entire race?'

'Why should the endpoint matter to you?' asked Takachiho. 'Your involvement is however much you allow yourself, and the price of that involvement will be proportional to it.'

That was a treat, and thinly veiled.

'Then what is the price as things stand?' he asked. 'I have already interfered, have I not?'

'Providing supplements, and now facilitating a hack into our system.' The man nodded. 'Two infringements, but both were justified even if the latter was unnecessary.'

'And you always knew the supplements would become accessible,' he mused, 'considering the fact that Hexenjagd had the formula to produce them.'

'Of course. However, they accomplished nothing of their schemes. It was the little group that escaped execution that did that.'

'Indeed it was.' He couldn't pretend to not know about them, at this point. It had probably become a closed door when he'd attempted to decode those supplements. 'And where do the rest of them fit into this scheme of yours?'

He smiled again, before turning away. 'Despite your dealing exclusively with _in vitro_ and _in silico _systems, surely you can appreciate the value of post-marketing surveillance…of a sort. They have evolved beyond their lab levels, after all. Whether that's due to interaction with the sorcerian or with the world is still beyond us – the world had affected Nanami before she'd even met the sorcerian, after all.'

'Still too large a playground for you?' Perhaps it was meant to be scathing. To Kogorou's discredit, the question had slipped out before he'd thought it through.

'We are in the process of taming it,' Takachiho replied, a little curtly now. The conversation had stretched on too long. 'Now, if you'll excuse me –'

'What will you do?' Kogorou interrupted. 'About Ryouta? About me? About the witches?'

'In the Observatory, you mean?' So he knew that too. 'I told you. I have eyes everywhere. And because of that, I don't have to fear things like betrayal or plans sneaking in under my knowledge. I am content with leaving things largely as they are – assuming, of course, you don't do anything to destabilise the current situation, at least until Valkryia and Grani are ready.'

That was an interesting way of putting it. Almost like permission to act once they were. Permission to attempt to bring down the Institute when they'd be most vulnerable and most powerful as well.

But eyes everywhere? That was a problem. And egotistical as well. In the mind and heart as well? He doubted that, but once upon a time he'd doubted the existence of aliens and witches too.

'As for Ryouta, of course we'll have to speed up the process now. And…do a little reformatting, as it is.'

So they planned to remove Nanami? To make more space in his brain – but that was a temporary measure. New inputs would fill the space cleared up again. They obviously knew that, but to take such a…lazy approach.

So that was their new timeline. Perhaps final timeline.

'And Naoko?' he asked quietly.

'You are a scientist,' the man snapped at him. 'Would you stop hammering on about emotions?'

_Well…_ Kogorou thought, watching the man leave. He wondered what that meant.

And what he was supposed to tell everyone.

.

'We want to try something new,' said the doctor. It only confirmed his suspicion of him being involved with Vingulf as well. 'Removing the scar tissue from the brain and infusing the area with stem cells from an early embryo may allow the area of the brain to regenerate. Part of the problem of regeneration in the mature nervous system, after all, is the lack of molecular sign-posts which an embryonic sample should still possess.'

Such a thing would require some complicated ethics – if indeed they planned to do what they said. He was better informed, after all.

Naoko wasn't. 'How will you get embryonic stem cells?'

'Many pregnancies are terminated at the early stage,' the doctor replied. 'We can get them from the abortion clinic.'

Reasonable, but that did not necessarily make it possible. But it was an acceptable explanation. They'd done their homework. They'd been careful. If no-one ran into a witch with a fountain of information, they'd probably never see the holes in it.

Naoko was looking at him. 'What do you think?' she asked. Of course, she always deferred to him when it came to scientific things. And when her husband had still lived, to him.

It was easier to think of it that way, he decided. As her husband, Ryouta and Makina's father, as someone separate to the Takachiho he'd met in the hospital's hallway.

'I think it's worth a try.' He carefully schooled his expression. The doctor was looking at him, but nothing showed on either of their faces.

Naoko signed the forms.

.

'You'll be undergoing surgery, Ryouta,' he explained. 'It's got a high rate of succeeding and getting you back to how you were before this.'

Ryouta frowned. Something was probably niggling at him, something from their previous discussions, but three seconds wasn't enough to work it out.

He was mildly surprised. He probably could manage it with Nanami's help, which meant she was refraining from doing so. Did she already know the truth then? If so, why had it been necessary to approach Vingulf in the first place – unless, of course, he never would have asked the right questions of her to tease that information out.

Or perhaps she couldn't have told because it would have had to be through Ryouta, and then he would know as well. Maybe she'd been simply trying to spare him.

It was difficult to guess at a person's motives when they existed in only one mind in the world. And soon, not even that. And it was sort of sad he couldn't say goodbye to her without risking Ryouta's distress. Ryouta distressed wouldn't make for good operation conditions, after all.

Though he wondered… Perhaps she would be able to hear him after he was under anaesthetic. It was the best he had, anyway. Ryouta was too sharp otherwise. Even in his current state.

.

'So that's how things are,' he finished.

He'd told an edited version, of course. Didn't mention the role Ryouta's…biological father had to play in all of it. Though he did mention the comment about the eyes, and why the other girls had been spared as well.

'So they know?' Kazumi was the least concerned, because she'd essentially told them the extent of her powers herself. But Kana and Hatsuna especially… 'Those were our advantages against them.'

'Information is the advantage,' Kogorou replied. 'And they claim to have eyes everywhere.'

The girls were silent. There was no hiding themselves, then. No saving Ryouta who'd gotten involved because of them. Even if he'd been involved in a different capacity before that.

'We got you involved too,' said Kana, after a pause.

Kogorou shrugged. 'It's an interesting problem,' he said. 'That makes it well worth the price.'

'Would Vingulf want you?' That was Hatsuna.

He could guess what she was thinking. 'Too emotional, according to them,' he said lightly. 'One had the nerve to call me Ryouta's father. I'm the doting uncle!'

They laughed. Stilted and awkward, but at least his sudden burst of theatrics accomplished more than personal embarrassment. Though an audience of high school girls (and one junior high school girl) didn't really invite embarrassment for someone like him. But at least they had two confirmations of trust. That he wasn't suited to Vingulf, and that he cared about Ryouta enough to be considered the missing father in his life.

'So what happens now?' asked Neko, twisting her hair in her hands. A lot of girls with long hair seemed to have that habit. Possibly why Naoko had always kept hers short.

Kogorou shrugged. 'Now we get on with our normal lives until Vingulf's next move. Unless Hexenjagd pulls something, I suppose.'


	13. Chapter 13

**The Left Side of Memories  
><strong>_Chapter 13_

This…looked vaguely familiar.

Ryouta looked around. Everything was fuzzy, as though he was wearing prescription lenses inappropriate to his eyes. Or maybe he'd developed a need for glasses and was lacking them now.

He touched the bridge of his nose. There were no glasses there. But eyes didn't deteriorate so quickly. Not naturally, anyway. Had something happened to cause it? He couldn't remember anything that might. He'd been in a hospital bed for quite a while, after all. He didn't know how long. Weeks? Or had they bled into months by that point? There wasn't much to differentiate one day from another when the lights were always on and where the scenery barely changed.

But when had he moved away from all of that?

Unless he was dreaming, of course.

It was a very real dream, though. He could feel himself: the raised but empty bridge of his nose where no glasses sat upon it (because glasses apparently ran on both sides of the family and his body was all prepared to host a pair). He could feel something hard under his feet: something that was rough but firm, that had been once smooth until battered to be what it now was.

He could also feel the air, carried by a stilted win that spelled a summer heat. But it wasn't summer…was it? Summer was already over. Summer when they'd gone to the ocean together. Summer with Kuroha and Kana and Kazumi and Kotori –

He hadn't seen Kotori at the hospital. And he hadn't even thought to ask about it then.

He sunk to his knees. Kuroha and Kana and Kazumi and Hatsuna. No Kotori. He was positive. He could see them clearly. See their guilty faces as they begged forgiveness again and again, as though he'd already forgotten – and maybe he had. Why hadn't Kotori slipped from his mind again? Why wasn't the context slipping away and reforming like the air he breathed?

Where _was_ he?

The ground sloped away from him. It was narrow, whatever it was. And grey. Feeling familiar still. Very vaguely familiar. He stood up again and walked on it. He could easily slip, and he couldn't work out what was below that, below him.

He bumped into something, and suddenly there were two screams and the wind roaring.

His heart skipped a beat.

His scream.

Kuroneko's scream.

He reached out. He could see fuzzy shapes now – they must be him and Neko, in the past, that day they'd fallen from the dam – and they slipped out of his grasp. He was watching them fall, watching the past.

Of course he couldn't do a damn thing about it. But if he could –

He couldn't reach them though. And it would be stupid to jump. He could go back though. He knew the way down. Get down and –

He was suddenly down without having taken a step, standing in water that lapped at his ankles. There were people there. Lots of people. How had they gotten there so quickly? All white and pixelated. He couldn't make out their genders, let alone their names. Their voices were all garbed, like speaking through filter masks and his ears were blocked as well. One walked around him without acknowledgement, like he wasn't there.

Of course he wasn't. He was lying in the water – lying! He _was_ lying. No longer standing. No longer watching the white pixels but staring at blackness instead. And he could feel the water, and the rocks. Cold, and painful. He could feel himself shivering. Feel his head want to explode.

Then someone turned him around. Something that glittered in some light – the sun? Or the hospital light? He was definitely dreaming. But why a dream like this? What was he supposed to be doing?

Surgery, he remembered. His mother and uncle had mentioned surgery.

_Wonder what they gave me,_ he mused to himself. _Can't we switch over to a planetarium instead?_

The scene stayed stubbornly fixed. Something small and round above him. He reached up and touched it. Glasses. They were glasses. Rather big ones too. The sort that covered the entire eye instead of just the centre vision. You probably couldn't peer above the glasses with those, or below them, or around them. But why glasses? Why couldn't he make out anything else?

His dropped his hand a little. Felt a nose. With a bridge just made to hold glasses up. Kind of like his own.

Then the scene did change and there was Kuroneko, telling him aliens were real and showing him one.

'See,' she grinned. 'I told you. An alien.'

She was showing him a curled up figure. Wings had at some point burst out of his back. At least, he assumed it was a male. He looked like a human male, aside from the wings. But as soon as that thought occurred to him, the alien began to change. Become more grotesque. Become the monster the girls had described to him.

Then it shrank and became the thing in their harnesses.

And it crawled to him.

'Go away.' He scrambled back. He remembered stepping on one, again and again until it wouldn't move any more but now that he knew what they were, he couldn't do it again.

Could he?

It scrambled after him, faceless, wordless.

He scrambled further back, and looked at Kuroneko. She was smiling at him still. Smiling – but the rest of her head wasn't there. Just her lips and chin and the bits of cheek and bone holding it together.

The rest of her head was taken up by that same slimy thing in the harnesses, the same slimy thing coming after him.

'It's okay,' she called to him. 'It's just an alien. You wanted to meet one, didn't you?'

_This is just a dream,_ he reminded himself, trying to calm his pounding heart as he backed away. _Just a dream. I can't –_

He hit a wall and couldn't go any further.

Even if it was a dream, he was trapped.

'It's okay.' Kuroneko came closer. 'It's already a part of you, anyway. In here.' She tapped her head – that _thing_ inside the cavity of her head.

He reached up to touch his own head. Something grabbed his fingers. He screamed.

He was lying in the dam again. His body was numb. He couldn't even feel the water but his eyes were open. He could see it: murky, dark, and yet streaked with blood. Kuroneko's blood – because he'd only had a broken arm from that, hadn't he? He couldn't have contributed much to it at all.

He sat up. Blood spilled onto his lap. Fresh blood.

_It's already in your head._

He touched his head – or tried to. His hand went straight through.

'We can use them,' someone was saying. The white pixels, but this time he could make out the words. But as soon as he thought that, it became static-like, so only words were spat at him.

But they were enough.

'…do…brain..?'

'…use…alien's…will do…'

'I'm sorry,' and that last voice was crystal clear, like the speaker was sitting beside him.

Ryouta opened his eyes. There was nothing now. Nothing under his feet. Not even air for him to breathe. He simply _was_ – he and that voice speaking to him. _Nanami?_

'I'm sorry,' she repeated.

_Why are you apologising?_

'I wanted you to know…before it's all gone again.'

_Know…what?_

Already, his dream was slipping away, and its implications as well.

'And I'm going now too. Kind of have to, otherwise all of this will have been for nothing.'

He'd wanted to ask about something. The questions are gone as well.

'At least this way, you won't cry because you've forgotten me.' A moment of silence. 'You big crybaby.'

_When did I cry_? When was the last time he'd cried? When he was dying, maybe. When Valkryia had put a nice big hole in him. And before that…when he finally had the proof, that Kuroha really was the Kuroneko from his childhood memories… And before that? It was a long time ago, before that, he thought.

And yet the voice was talking as though it was all recent.

'It's working,' said the voice. What was her name? He should know it. 'You've already forgotten my name. I'll take the rest as well, now.'

_Why?_

'It has to be this way.'

The voice sounds…sad, somehow.

'But I'm going to be selfish and borrow a bit of your new brain, too.'

_New brain?_

'You'll want the truth eventually. I know.'

_Truth?_

There was something important. But he'd already…

'Not now.' And, for a moment, he thought he felt fingers on his lip. 'But it'll be our little secret, okay?'

_Okay…_

And so, when they asked him, later, if he'd dreamed, he said: 'Not at all.' Because all he remembered was that echoing voice saying: 'It'll be out little secret, okay?'


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **The original plan had 16 chapters. Somehow a few chapters got combined so here's the finale, two chapters early. Enjoy!

.

.

**The Left Side of Memories**  
><em>Chapter 14<em>

It turned out Nanami had wiped out a few more memories than they'd bargained for. It might save them all some trouble in the long run, though.

When they asked him the last thing Ryouta remembered, he said he'd been in the Observatory. That didn't raise any concerns until Kogorou asked him when there weren't any other witnesses around. Then he confessed he remembered Valkryia's presence – and Kogorou, already having heard the tale before, put the question bluntly. 'Do you remember her killing you?'

'I – ' He seemed startled, before replying: 'Yes, but _how?_ How am I alive? And how do you know?'

'Really, Ryouta.' He pretended to sound disappointed. The truth was there was much in that tale he could no longer say. He wasn't supposed to tell Ryouta. Maybe he could get away with it. Maybe he couldn't. Either way, that knowledge would hurt and it wasn't a risk they needed to take right then. The time would come, eventually. But not right then. Maybe not for a few months. Maybe not for a few years, if they were lucky. He doubted they'd be so lucky as to ask for never and receive it. But for now… 'You can't hide such things from your favourite uncle.'

'You're acting awfully chirper,' Ryouta grumbled, giving him an odd look. 'Which means I was out of the woods ages ago.'

'Relatively speaking,' agreed Kogorou. 'About a month ago, to be exact. Long story short, Hatsuna managed to heal that gaping hole, but you'd still lost a lot of blood and your heart wasn't beating. So…' He paused for effect. 'Lucky you know so many cute girls, huh.'

'Uncle…' Ryouta growled, annoyed, before the implication struck and he went bright red. 'You mean –'

_At least his brain's keeping up_, Kogorou mused, counting four and a half seconds between his comment and the response. 'I believe it was Kuroha, as well…'

'You're kidding.' Ryouta buried his face in his hands, before Kogoru coaxed him back out.

'You're still recovering,' he said sternly. 'I'm sure I don't need to tell you the general effect oxygen starvation can have on your brain.'

'No,' Ryouta agreed. 'Was I unconscious for a month or have I lost some memories in the recovery process?'

'Both,' explained Kogorou. This is where he had to be careful. 'Initially, once you were awake, you were experiencing short term memory loss mimicking damage to the hippocampus. It was too late to reperfuse, but the doctors attempted a embryonic stem cell infusion and it seems to have worked. A miracle, almost.'

'A miracle,' Ryouta repeated slowly. 'And the girls?'

'The one called Kotori died,' Kogorou explained, 'but the others are fine. They'll be visiting tomorrow. Or today.'

'Their supplements?'

_Really, you do have a one track mind sometimes._

'Hexenjagd gave the formula. I've been making it for them.'

Ryouta digested that. 'Thank you,' he said finally, looking at him. 'You didn't get into any trouble, did you?'

And, of course, he couldn't answer that truthfully. 'It was interesting, meeting them,' he said. 'Maybe I'll visit every now and then, too.'

'You're welcome to…though I suppose it's up to the girls.'

He doubted they'd be too against the idea.

.

Kazumi squealed and hugged him.

Naoko looked like she wished she had a camera. Kogorou simply hid his snicker behind his hand. Kuroha was glaring at Kazumi, but the other two simply looked amused.

In other words, it was the perfect little reunion.

He'd planned it, of course.

Naoko was the ignorant one of the bunch. The one who'd never known anything about Vingulf and aliens and witches and hopefully never would. And Ryouta had secrets kept from him as well. Next were the girls. Kazumi knew the most and he doubted she'd told the others all of what she knew. But not even she knew about Takachiho. That was a secret that was, for now, his alone.

But in this sort of setting, they had to tailor for the person who knew the least. Which meant they couldn't talk carelessly at all. They could only talk about innocent things. School. The stars. Romance – which lead to Ryouta almost falling out of bed to cover Kazumi's mouth before she put her foot in it in front of his mother.

Naoko was, of course, not pleased. But she had to admit they were good friends after all, to have worried this long. Them and Kitsuka. His classmates from school had come once and that was all, but at least now they knew. And her brother, of course. Eccentric as he was, he'd stuck by his family when they'd needed him.

She smiled.

He smiled too. For an entirely different reason.

His poor sister, who hadn't an inkling about the truth. But it was better that way. For her happiness. For her peace of mind as well. And Ryouta's happiness…though Ryouta's might be a fleeting happiness, with what awaited him.

They were all smiling now. Laughing. Being happy.

_Wouldn't you prefer this, Takachiho?_ he wondered.

But no. The man he'd seen before him had been too cold. Too clinical. The man who only saw specimens, who only saw experiments.

Except at the end. When he'd mentioned Naoko that last time. Part of him wondered if that was an opening, a chink in the armour. But the rest of him knew there was no point thinking about it then. No point thinking about it for a while, when the eyes watching them would be extra vigilant. His unconscious brain could hold on to that tidbit instead. Until the eyes tired, got distracted by other matters. Until the tidbit was safe to bring into conscious regions again.

.

'So that's our happy ending,' Kana mused, once they'd returned to the Observatory for the night. 'For now.'

'To think Vingulf wouldn't just blow our heads right off.' Hatsuna shook her head. 'Lucky ending, I'd call it.'

But it couldn't have been luck, because Kana's visions were based on something more stable and unwavering than chance. And they all knew it.

'Murakami's okay,' Neko said. 'And we won't make the same mistake again.'

'No,' they agreed. Hurting the person they loved to save him hadn't gotten them anywhere. It had only left him in pieces, left them in pieces, left their only way of fixing them in a place that could have easily killed them all instead. In a way, they were lucky they had new roles to play now, that they were something beyond the mass of B-level witches bundled off to execution that day. They were lucky that Murakami too had a role to play. Otherwise he would have been disposable. Otherwise, they wouldn't have bothered helping him at all.

They were lucky for now…but what did that mean for the future?

'We've changed the future before.' Neko was, perhaps of all of them, the one who understood the least. Who remembered the least. But she had also been the one to use Kana's predictions to save as many lives as she could before she ran out of supplements. Who'd led to Murakami finding them in the first place – because would his curiosity have gotten the better of him if she hadn't been (or looked so much like) the childhood friend he remembered? Who'd led to Murakami surviving his fate to die that first time, what seemed like so long ago. And he'd been meant to die many times after that as well. _Had_. Probably would in the future as well, depending on what awaited them. They might all. Die and stay dead, like Kotori. Die and be resurrected, like Ryouta and Kazumi.

They'd tried to stop the cycle. It had proven impossible. They'd have to fight it, then. Accept that it was there. Not let it win. Stay alive for as long as they were able to. Keep Murakami alive as long as they could – but knowing they couldn't help him being involved with them and knowing they'd probably need his help in the future too.

And it was more than just help. More than just their lives. It was how much they cared about him, and he about them. And what everyone had been willing to sacrifice to save each other.

'No more doing things on our own.' Murakami had learnt that when the police had arrested him and almost shot him dead. They'd learnt their lesson now. Even Hatsuna who could pretend to everyone but herself that she'd had nothing to do with the decision, melted as she was. She probably would have done the same, because she'd been so afraid she'd failed and only knew the day later that she hadn't.

And, this time, they could all pretend. They all _had_ to pretend.

In a way, it was their punishment. Their recompense. In another way, it was something they could do to protect Ryouta without hurting him – by keeping the information that would hurt away, at least while it didn't need to be out in the open. The sleeping dragon that could be left until it was poked in the eye. Like Neko's power too. Skeletons in the closet they could, and had to, pretend weren't there until they were dragged out by hands other than their own.

.

Everyone was hiding something. Except maybe his mother, but it was hard to tell with her. She was more harried than usual suddenly, once she decided to go back to work and found a flood awaiting her.

But his uncle…and the girls as well. Something had happened in the recent month to change them – maybe subtly, but change them nonetheless. Or maybe that was just what the passage of time and worry looked like. He wasn't used to having a hole in his memory, after all. After Kuroneko's accident…he remembered every bit of his life after that like a VCR that had infinite recording potential. Except between Valkryia killing him and him awaking in the hospital.

It was uncomfortable, that hole. A small price to pay for his life though, probably. Unless there was something important sealed into that month. Something significant. Something that could have changed the flow of the struggle against Vingulf, against the fate of the witches, against the crazy turns his life had taken since he met them…or maybe since he met Kuroneko all those years ago.

Two holes. One from that first accident. Falling off the dam to awaken in the hospital without her. And now, falling from a hole in his abdomen to wake up in a world without Valkryia or Kotori in it. And something else. There was something else as well.

Maybe it was as simple as that voice from his dream before he came out of the anaesthetic. The only bit of the dream he actually remembered. The secret he didn't even know.

But, somehow, he thought that voice had promised to tell him when he needed it.

_But until then, it'll be our little secret, okay?_

And he'd agreed.

So whatever changes they were in the world after a month…well, he supposed he'd have to adjust to them with a smile. And tears for Kotori.

And for that little voice in his head that sounded like, just maybe, was a friend as well. Even if just a made up one.


End file.
